Salt

 Years ago, long before i had touched a packraft, back when the idea of getting a raft was a faint glimmer on my horizon and i was instead looking at getting specialized packrafts specifically for canyoneering in the grand canyon, i would look upcanyon from the highway 288 bridge on my way up to the Sierra Ancha range wondering what mysteries were upstream. 

I looked into the float briefly after i bought my first packraft but was quickly deterred by the class 4 rapids in the stretch and the aura that remained around quartzite falls which is currently a mere shadow of its former self. It has long been in the back of my mind as something i wanted to work up to, another in the line of progression of permitted western rivers that Andrew, Lindsay and i had slowly been working through. In fact, this year i decided to start upping my permit game and had applied for both a Deso and a Yampa permit, but only managed to pick up a yampa once things were openly released.

 In February of this year, a friend of a friend put out the call, the salt had enough flow to be boatable and a permit had been drawn, plus several that were going on the trip had run it a few times before. A last minute flight was booked and before we knew it, we were in the van driving out to the Salt River canyon!

Looking downstream at the put in. What mysteries lie around that bend?

The crew for this trip was a bit more of a hodge podge than our usual, with a dedicated core and a few newcomers. Instead, we had a collection of those that could make the short timeline work, thanks to the lottery for incentivizing this over longer term planning.

After a late night arrival and 4 hours of sleep, Andrew and i were picked up by our shuttle vehicle early on Feb 29th and we set out. Its been a few years since i have been out to the Salt River canyon, but just like last year when Andrew and i were heading out towards the Gila region, Queen Creek canyon was in rare form, full of water from recent rains, misty and foggy and popping with wildflowers. Before long we found ourselves at the bottom of the salt river canyon. While quite as grand and colofrul as the Grand Canyon, this place with its more subdued scenery is quintessential arizona, a harsh desert cut through by water. In short order andrew sarah and i were rigged and ready to go, the rest of the crew, however, would still be a while. An hour or so later, the remaining members of the crew arrived, coming from other locations, including one from flag who conviniently grabbed our tribal permits. just after noon, we finally set out.

The rapids come in quick succession- Kiss and tell, then bump and grind, a river wide gravel bar pourover. We were just talking about how someone always has a problem at Bump and Grind, when, conviniently, i ran into a rock... After getting through the rapid i noticed i was loosing air fairly quickly. Luckily, after so many repairs in Alaska, i have become adept at fixes and we wer back on the water in 5 minutes. Maytag, Overboard, Grumman, and mother rock all passed without issue, and around 3 we got to Exhibition, one of our first bigger rapids. At this level, the Salt was a weird combination of low water and big hydraulics- in  a weird way though where some of the big hydraulics were just rocks, others were water... Exhibition ended up being a long run through big waves and holes. Right after, Erik, one of the party, had to exit as he did not have time to complete the full trip. Cibecue came in on river right with some stellar rock scenery. I never managed to get up to Cibeque falls before it became instagram famous, so i am not sure i will ever get the chance but i can imagine it is a beautiful quintessential Arizona sight. Cibecue and Raft Ripper rapids both past without issue. At Mescal Falls, a hard river right against a wall with some interesting waves and a big hole, several members went for a swim. Luckily there is a decent pool to recover in right downstream. Right around the corner at mescal falls, the Saguaro first made their appearance! 

Cibeque Canyon and the Daily section takeout.

Salt banks came in on river right shortly after the salt banks rapid. The travertine fallys were awesome. Apparently the small drips that fall into the Salt here ad a substantial portion of the salt in the river, pretty crazy that such a small flow can have such a large effect. Just after Litle Boat eater, we pulled over to stay for the evening (at 11.4 camp, one of many beautiful camps) with som enice cliffs downstream and a giant boulder in the middle of the river that just beggged to be climbed (unfortunately we didnt have a whole ton of lesiure time so i never got out to it).

The Fabled Salt Banks dumping salt into the river. 

First night's Camp

Day 2 started abruptly wih rock garden. Shortly thereafter we had the first rapid with decent complexity- Rat Trap. Most of the rapids until now just required proper set up which was fairly easy. Rat trap was a horizon line that you had to choose the right entry into otherwise you got flipped. Luckily i made it thru by entering a bit high compared to others. Andrew, on the other hand, entered the pourover a bit farther in and got fliped. Twice. In the same spot when he walked around to try again. The cheese went off without incident, and then we dropped into the granite gorge i had been looking forard to at white rock. The Granite gorge section, while not the most action packed, was probably my favorite. I love the multi-colored Ruin Granite that you can find throughout this part of Arizona (and that we had seen a few weeks before while on the Tonto). At canyon creek we stopped for lunch, perched on a small granite boulder. For whatever reason, huge spiders love to be around both the granite and water- i have seen these "zelda" spiders as i call them, they kind of look like the spiders from the game, only in other granite riperian zones like Salome, interesting. 

Lunch as Canyon Creek enters the Salt

Canyon Creek itself came in clear and warm after making the long treck down to the Salt from the Mogollon Rim area. It looks like, given proper flow, it could be a fun side run! After lunch we were met with Granite Rapid, where Sarah got flipped over backwards on a sleeper hole at the end of the rapid. The granite gorge was all too short, and soon we were emerging from the Salt River Canyon area into Gleason Flat. A few years ago this was the site of a large flashflood that pushed the river into a new channel and mostly blocked flow requiring a long portage. Luckily, high flows from the previous year and small boats meant we were able to pick our way through the braids without needing to portage anything. After a few miles of open floating i was glad that the walls came in close again. Devils Pendejo was next, a rapid that is almost an exact copy of Mescal Falls, a hard right at a wall. Then came Eye fo the needle, a nice choke point that was fairly exiting. Just upstream, Ross flipped on a rock and the bulk of the crew ran through the rapid while i stopped with Ross, helping him get ready before dropping in. Shortly after came the first CL4 of the trip, Black Rock. This was a step up in terms of what we had seen thusfar, a decent pouroff with a moderately sticky hole. I wasnt feeling it so most of us portaged just upstream of the rapid on the left, only requring a boat cary of about 200 feet. Guzy  and Becca decided to give it a shot. After setting spotters and safety, Becca ran thru and made it through the drop but flipped trying to navigate the hard right on a wall just down from the pouroff. Guzy chose a different strategy and just rammed righ into the wall after the drop, and after rebounding was able to easily paddle away, interesting strategy that i havent really seen before. At this point it was getting late in the day and we paused at upper corral canyon, debating whether to stop or not. The site looked less than stellar though, and because we still had another hour and a half of daylight we moved on. If i have learned anything in my time on the water, its that most issues happen late in the day. Sure enough, at Upper corral Rapid, Sarah flipped and went for a pretty long swim. Luckily, as sweep, i was able to get her paddle and boat to the side and she didnt have to bushwhack too far to get down to her boat. Taking this as a sign, we pulled over at Yankee Joe, which was probably my favorite site, both beautiful and open while also having decent tree coverage. With nerves running high about the Cl4 rapids we would have to confront the following evening, Sarah decided to join us at out sleep site (usually we all dispersed fairly well) for some company. We had a bonfire and closed out the night.

Water dissapears; Yanke Joe Canyon

The next morning, we all packed up and explored as we saw fit (Sarah and i both walked a fair way up Yankee Joe Canyon, a cool side canyon with flow that came up and went back down within a few hundred feet). Just upstream of camp there was also a great perch that andrew and i used as our business spot, definitely one of the better spots i have had in a while.

Because anxiety was high, we stopped to scout the first rapid we came to on day 3, Lower Corral Rapid, which turned out to be pretty straight forward. In quick succession we hit Pinball, and then the Maze, supposidly our first class 4 of the trip that we would all run. In reality both were just boulder gardens with a moderate amount of manuvarability needed but generally without any major difficulty. 

This river is very geologically interesting, and after the Maze were-emerged out of the basalt back into the brown and white quartzite, a sign that bigger things were coming. Quartzite, which used to be the monster of the run (a 15 foot CL6 fall) but in the 90's was blasted to become a much more mild drop.  We stopped well before (maybe too far before) quartzsite and hiked up a few hundered feet on the bend before the falls to scout (this is suggested by the guide). While this might be good at high water and in big boats, we quickly found that this was a bit absurd (but gave great views of the area!) We instead chose to scout in ernest on a gravel bar just upstream of the rapid on the right. At this level (~700 CFS) Quartzite was a two stage drop, both fairly straightforward (CL3 at best at this level) with a large pool below. 

A Proper desert crown found on the Quartzite Scout

The upper part of Quartzite, reduced from its former glory to a bolder garden

Just below Quartzite was Corkscrew, probably the most complex rapid we saw, a somewhat doubledrop that falls right then left with some interesting laterals and holes and one large hole at the bottom. Portage would be difficult and potentially dangerous (required moving across flow that would sweep you right into the rapid then navigating some large slick boulders). After some discussion we arrived on the strategy that each of us would prefer to try. Many of us would try to sneak in on the far right, then ferry hard left to avoid the large hole. Becca ran first and chose to come in on the left instead, and immediately flipped. Guzy ran next and flipped on the bottom hole after not making the ferry, as did Ross, Sarah committed to going right around the bottom hole and made it! Andrew managed to mostly get to the left of the bottom hole and also made it! Finally, i dropped and stayed hard right and went mostly around the bottom hole, clipping the right side. Definitely it was a step up for me but not so much so that it felt uncomfortable. Quickly we ran through Sleeper (guzy was still swimming) and we were through! Only a few easier rapids remained. Just around the bend we pulled over to back in our success and have lunch, what an eventful morning it had been. 

A pool with spring leaves emerging on Cherry Creek

I tried to savour the remaining wilderness stretch as much as possible, with some rugged walls and cacti. Cliffhanger went without difficulty and Soon we were at Cherry creek, a beautiful clearwater stream flowing off the Sierra Ancha from the north with some decently sized trout in pools. We filled up on wanter and set off.  Just as we emerged into horshoe bend the wind started to pick up. At the apex of the horshe, a large group was having a party down by the river and gave us a bunch of hoots, stoked to see that we were on the water (even a couple of girls flashing us too! They flashed the ladies in the lead tho, probably thinking we were all just a bunch of dudes). A bit farther down i saw what might be the most Arizonan thing i have seen- a prickly pear growing insdie the crown of a Saguaro, shocked by the sight (that no one else saw) i missed my opportunity to grab a picture. We camped at Coon creek, a beautiful site set amongs Arizona Sycamore and Cottonwoods with a nice creek running through it. Andrew and i took some beers and walked up stream a ways to enjoy sometime away from the rest of the crew. Larger groups can be fun but i found myself longing for the simplicity of trips with just andrew, lindsay and myself. Some river rangers stopped by when we got back to camp, first run of the season for them. I would have loved to have some time with the older ranger, he had apparently been patroling this stretch for a few decades and i am sure had much to tell. Our final night had the group swapping stories as we had finally gotten to the point that the group was coalescing. 

Columns of Basalt and Saguaro

Andrew with an Ancient Sycamore

Morning of day 4 started slow again, which gave more time for us to enjoy the fresh spring leaves at sunrise. We stopped at dry creek, which, contrary to its name, had a lovely waterfall that we walked back to. Andrew, Guzy and i opted not to put on dry suites as we didnt have any major rapids left per the map. Of course we still had quite a few riffles, some fairly large that might even have been CL2, one of which Guzy flipped on. All too quickly we got to Pinal creek and the final granitic gorge of the canyon, the portal that i had looked upstream towards so many times before. I am a bit sad that i no longer have that mystery but so glad that i was able to finally experience this section of arizona, and i am sure i will be back with Lindsay someday. We closed out the trip at a mexican food restaurant just outside of globe. With a second trip in AZ now in the bag, my mind cant help but wander to all of the other possibilities the arid state has to offer. 

"Dry Creek" Falls

Nearing the End

The Rocky portal that i had looked up so many times, now seen from upstream. 

Lower San Juan Friendsgiving

Far from the busy river of alte spring and early summer when it is running high, the San Juan on the cusp of winter is a quiet place. 

After the constant pressure and business of getting married (Yay! but also Yay it is over!) Lindsay and i wanted to get away for a long weekend. Thanksgiving was the obvious choice. We called in a small collection of friends and family to join and before we knew it we had ourselves a proper friendsgiving weekend getaway! Unfortunately, this time of year weather can be fickle in the desert. Throw in the fact that we would be in boats and that complicated things. Several days before we set out, weather models changed and suggested that a major storm would be cruising through right when we would be in the thick of things in the canyon. Things were surely going to get exciting.

Another Stellar Sunrise at Sandthrax camp

We set off from Salt Lake wendesday after work, a contingent from phoenix did the same. We camped, as we often do when heading to this part of the state late after work, at the Sandthrax site, which seems to be getting busier every year and, even with below freezing temps and a storm in the forecast, there were several others already there when we arrived. A short and cold night ended with a beautiful sunrise and we were off continuing south. The drive south of Hanksville to Cedar mesa has to be one of my favorite in the state, the views are spectacular and it is an area that still seems to have a semblance of solitude. After a quick drop of a car at the clay hills crossing ramp, we went back around to Mexican hat. 3 years earlier we finished a winter float of the san juan in mexican hat; it was nice to return and i (and i am sure andrew and lindsay as well) was eager to see what lay down river. 

Under grey  skies, we set off on the river and within minutes came to gypsum creek, our first rapid. At the water levels we saw, all rapids we encountered were no more than class 2 and were all short and straight forward. At gypsum creek we scouted on the left, walking across the drying bed of gypsum creek proper which was telling the story of this land. The drying but not fully dried clay does an excellent job of capturing footprints in amazing detail.

The Desert has a story to tell

As we left town, the canyon walls gradually rose around us; i was having flashbacks to the section just upstream 3 years earlier as they were remarkably similar. The lower san juan quickly enters entrenched meanders, at the far end of the first of these, the mendenhall loop, we took a quick warm up break to hike up to the mendenhall cabin. What a place that would have been to try and eek out a living! We stopped for the day a few miles further at the Tabernacle and set up for our feast. Feast we did! After getting the fire going we warmed our turkey in the coals, and enjoyed a proper thanksgiving with our small group of friends and family taking in tangerine sunset. 

Preparing for a Thanksgiving Feast under the Tangerine Sky

Thanksgiving Turkey warming up

Black friday was expected to be a dark and dismal day for us. Rain and/or snow was in the forecast, and not just a little of it. When we awoke, thoguh, we were greated to broken skies and the occasional blue patches! Down river, we had our first and only wildlife sighting, a big horn sheep that was running up on a broken ledge alongside us as we went down river. Around our lunch break the weather changed and a driving rain came in intermixed with heavy up and down canyon winds. After pushing through the rain and wind for 4 hours, we finally called it for the day at Ross rapid camp. Coincidentally, things cleared up and the blue sky and sun grazed us to close out the day. At Ross camp the chert and jasper intrusions are particularly prevelant. We explored a bit, finding the memorial to Mr Ross himself, as well as a small structure, likely a somewhat recently constructed hunting blind made when newcomers began to mine the area. As the sun set, the moon rose to perfectly clear skies, painting a scene on the canyon walls and seemingly hinting at better weather to come. 

The locals letting us hang out in the water as they watch from above

Clear Skies and fast water make a happy Lindsay

Exploring (and maybe yelling at the sun to sun more?)

A look up and down river at Ross Camp

Moonrise at Ross

Although winter canyons can be amazing for the solitude they allow, the deep walls, now ~1000 feet above us, and the east-west nature of the canyon meant that sunlight was a rarity, and on the occasion that we got to glimpse some, all would stop and bask in it as long as possible. Leaving Ross camp, we had just come into the sun and the temps had peaked above freezing again, but once on the water we were immediately back in the icebox. Even with the cold and a now constant upwind draft, the clarity in the desert post rainstorm was on full display and the canyon seemed so vibrant. At around 2 we arrived at the fabled Government Rapid, supposidly the "big one". Being potentially overly cautious, we stopped well above the rapid and walked the canyon down to scout. What was supposed to be a somewhat long and difficult Class 3 really was just two drops in quick succession, no more than 2+ at this flow, a straightforeward run down the middle or maybe a slightly more interesting run on the left. We had been leapfrogging another party that had put in shortly before us on thanksgiving, and we managed to catch them just as we were finishing up running all of the boats through government. At Slickhorn B we pulled over for the night. I doubted that we would actually see much sign of the oil exploration that had happened in the area other than some old equipment, but at times the smell of fuel oil was strong hinting that some of the natural seeps were still active. 

Old Man Beer Belly Spire reflected off interesting pools in Slickhorn

Early Morning Calm at slickhorn

Pancakes in bed, a river trip special

The crew getting ready as andrew plays his brain bongo

Tristan, ready to own another day of paddling on his first river trip in his packraft

At Slickhorn the water gets continuously slower. It was tough leacing the pace of this bend in the river in the morning, especially since we had the pleasure of frozen shoes to look foreward to. An hour or so after setting off, we made a stop at Grand Gulch to get out and get some blood flowing. The lower bits of grand gulch hold some pretty amazing pools sheltered under ledges. Some day we will come back and pack out grand gulch, the trip i had initially hoped to do but we didnt have time for. After Grand Gulch the effects of the Dam are particularly apparent. The river channel is 30+ feet above where it used to be, and as a result slowly meanders back and forth covering the entire bottom of the canyon causing consistent frustration. At Oljeto Wash we stopped again to go for a walk. This canyon was probably my favorite of all of the side canyons we explored but was guarded by a fair but of muck and quicksand/mud. We found petrified wood, interesting sand flows, and even some formed smokey quartz from an age long past in the canyon bottom.

Walking along the ledge that used to be a waterfall down to the river, Grand Gulch

Pools in the lower reaches of Grand Gulch

Walking under the overhang, Oljeto wash

Lindsay, the strong and independant woman that she is, singlehandedly holding the world up, you can thank her for not letting it fall over everyone. 

At Steer Gulch we stopped for our final evening. I had heard that there was a horrendous mud flat to walk across at Steer Gulch to access camping, but the upper entrance wasnt too bad. Andrew had committed a little too far down river and ended up breaking a paddle blade off trying to get back to the camp, but in the process found the preferred entrance among the tamarisk with some good flow to immediately step into. Steer Gulch was also my favorite camp, very close and intimate with the Wingate walls keeping close company. That night we had a ceremony for andrews fallen friend and granted him first ever use of our spare paddle that had come on so many rivers without ever seeing action. As the fire raged and our shadows danced on the walls, the night grew deep and cold and we eventually retired to sleeping bags under the open sky.

A raging ceremonial fire on our last night

Lindsays and shadows dancing in tandem

Morning on our final day greeted us with sunlight and a lack of wind that we had battled the prior few days. We slowly left behind the canyon walls and emerged back at Clay Hills where we were the only car in the lot, leaving the river behind to have some time to itself before hustle of the next runoff season.

Is it a river or is it a lake? The lower San Juan as we approach the takeout, most of the water is less than an inch deep with a channel in there somewhere...

Leeaving the Canyon Behind

Back at Clay Hills after a lovely long weekend

Winds - Headwaters of the Green

As with many before me, i have become infatuated with these mountains. They are harsh and rugged, yet welcoming and beautiful all at the same time. Travel is tough over talus, or easy and idylic through meadows of lush grass and flowers, invigorating through clear and cold mountain streams coming off the high peaks. 
I am not the only one; generations have come here to find solitude or comraderie, wild adventure or simply beautiful views. Different than most of the greater Yellowstone complex, these rounded and craggy granite peaks hold some of the largest glaciers in the Rocky Mountain range in the US, yet they get a small fraction of the visitation that the tetons, neighbors to the north, recieve. Travel is generaly easy out here, unlike the in the tetons where all trails lead up, usually quite steeply. Here the name of the game is long, undulating distance. 

To end the excellent runoff season of 2023 in the West, and because i havent been climbing much this year due to a varietly of life circumstances, Lindsay and i headed up to the start of the Green. Although we had been through the true headwaters, up and over the ridge where the green starts as a series of trickles coming off a receding glacier and some semi-permenant snow fields, for this trip we wanted to try to boat the river down, then out of the mountains. The goal was to packraft from whenever possible through past green river lakes, then out and around the northwestern part of the winds back towards Pinedale/Cora. Most people who have floated this section opted for the much easier method of walking up the river corridor then floating back out. Rather than default to the norm, lindsay and i instead opted to come in over the ridgeline, so we could follow a continous stream all the way from its headwaters and watch it grow from nothing to a trickle to a river. This would, of course, mean hauling boats up thousands of vertical feet into the alpine, but the alpine regions of the Winds are always worth the visit. 

After a frantic last minute packing session, we set off for New Fork after work. I had not yet been to New Fork so i wasnt sure quite what to expect. We set up a bike shuttle (dropped a bike in the woods at the green river winter trailhead) and started walking from the New Fork narrows trailhead just before sunset. A mile and a half in saw us at the head of the upper New Fork Lake on a beautiful glacial beach away from the crowds at the narrows campsite.

Walking in to camp at the head of New Fork Lake

The first real day of the long weekend had us crossing the New Fork River twice in a long, gradual ascent of the New Fork drainage. I had not heard much of this drainage but as a climber, it seems that anywhere you go in the Winds holds dramatic, sweeping granite walls and domes. New Fork was no different and seems like a great option to avoid the hoards of Cirque of the Towers and Deep Lake while also having a shorter and easier walk (and pavement nearly to the trailhead). The drainage itself was stunning, and, given the right time, seems like it could also support a good packrafting run almost back to the lake. 

On the trail

Upper New Fork River

Sometime after lunch the trail really started to take off up into the headwaters and the alpine. Some concerning weather also started threatening which added to the concern about not having a place to set up the tent if the sky really opened up. Luckily we only got a few light showers and made it to Kenny lake, which we had all to ourselves, just in time to freshen up in the lake and watch the beautiful sunset.

Wildflowers at Kenny Lake

Sunset at Kenny Lake

Our second full day on the trail started with a quick descent into the upper New Fork river basin area before re-ascending to a pass that would take us into the upper Green River area. We happened to catch the wildflowers just as they were peaking, which also meant the mosquitos were peaking as well... At the pass we finally had visibility into the central core of the wind river range, a steep and unforgiving area of rock and ice. This part of the range was pretty quiet, even on a prime "Pie and Beer" day weekend, and we had not seen another group since mid afternooon the day before, so we took advantage of the solitude and went skinny dipping in Clark Lake. 

The paintbrush trail. 

Recovery time in the alpine at our final pass before descending down to the river

The final descent down switch backs seemed to take a long time, but was more reminiscent of the PNW than of the central rockies, with tall trees covered in moss and large, broken peaks. When we finally hit the valley floor at three forks park, the river looked doable, but some internet scouting seemed to suggest the next mile and a half might have some intense whitewater, so we opted to walk rather than transition. Definitely was a good idea to walk, as there were several sections of class 4 water in a shallow gorge that was full of wood, where exit would be difficult. We ended up camping at a river bend right before the beaver park bridge in the shadow of Square Top.

Dinner by the river

The wilderness section of the green above green river lakes was absolutely stellar, the views were amazing and there were a few fun rapinds. Unfortunately the river was also choked with wood which meant we had to portage ~9 times in ~7 miles, slowing us down quite a bit. All but one of the portages were just a single log that was wedged. If i return, i would bring a small hand chainsaw and clean up some of them with a few fast cuts, which would really improve the character of the run. We paddled upper green river lake (and the river between) but opted to walk around lower as the paddling was slow and the lake was long. 

Beautiful floating in the Green River wilderness section

After upper green river lake the water transitioned from glacial milk and a fairy blue-green color to beautifully clear. Coming out of lower green river lake the water was amongst the clearest i have floated on, with a hint of green. After a few swift miles the river broadened and deepened, to the point of almost being a lake. The water was wider and deeper than other "slow" rivers i have been on with 4x that flow which meant we were really crawling. Looking at the elevation profile, i thought something must have been up with the topo model because it was heavily stepped... in reality... this is the river profile. Almost completely flat for miles followed by very steep miles before returning to almost flat. We didnt get nearly as far as hoped. I was hoping to get within ~10 miles of the takeout (meaning 24 miles on the water) but with sunset only an hour and a half away we were barely 16 miles in and the water was seemingly flat. Readjusting, we agreed to stop at Moose Creek, because there should be a rapid section right after that which we would start with the following morning. Well... things dont go according to plan and in reality the rapid began about a half mile upstream of Moose Creek. At this point we were tired (and a bit cold, we didnt bring dry suits) from the long day on the water. Nonetheless we pressed on because of the lack of camping (marshy on one side, private and/or cow infested on the other). Sure enough, the crux of the whole run came soon after. I made it through the rapid but Lindsay flipped backwards in a lateral/hole. Looking back, i managed to grab her gear that came floating down to me, make my way to shore, and set up to rescue her. She was stuck on a rock close to shore, but with a sizable stream to navigate through that could easily sweep her further down. This is why we practice rescue techniques! I threw a rope, got set as a body anchor, and she was able to sweep herself across the flow to shore, fine if a bit shocked.  A quick scout seemed to show a decent camp site another halfmile down the river with a minor rapid to navigate. After collecting ourselves a bit, we bee-lined to camp, happy to be off the water. 

Looking back at the winds from the upper green

The crux of the Moose Creek rapid section

Camp in the high desert out of the winds

Our final river day started off beautifully. After resting, we were much more mentally ready for the remaining rapid section (a few miles of continuous CL2/2+). The fish were EVERYWHERE, jumping out of the water every 30 seconds or so. I really wish we would have brought a fly road, if for this section alone. Before long the river started backing up again into a long flat and winding section. With time slowly getting away from us, an up-river wind really picking up, and the prospect if needing to still float 8+ miles of river, unclear if it would be flat or swift, we pulled over and called it. I ran the remainder back to the bike, biked back to the car through off and on rain, and made it to the car JUST in time for the sky to really open up. All in all, it was a stellar trip with amazing views, but equally amazing amounts of frustration with portages and flat water. I can't wait to go back! It seems that, if you are willing to work for it, there is a lot of good packrafting to be had in the winds, and maybe next time i wont pass up the fly rod. 

   Some of the Sage Brush Ocean wildflowers (including a Paintbrush Rainbow)