Instructor John scouted the Kern and bought the river permits last week.

We met in Torrance and got a 30 minute late start; a woman in the group got lost and couldn’t find the meeting spot.

I can’t believe John let a woman try and navigate by herself.

We stopped by the Kern River death count; the death count rose by 16 since the last time we were up here two years ago.

After the three hour drive up to Kernville, we met the rest of the party - we had six in all.

Five were to raft and the sixth was to rotate out and drive the van back down river.

John inflates the raft.

John gives his safety and procedures speech.

We loaded the raft on top of the van, drove up river just passed the power plant, cooled the raft and did the final inflation.

So, for the first run of this season, from left to right - John, Darnell, Jose, Jim and me; do I look macho, or what?

Ryan drove the van.

We initially practiced commands and steering.

Jose and John at the back of the boat.

Darnell, Jim and me.

We made it through the class three rapids above the Power House without a problem.

The ride wasn’t as thrilling as in years past…

The flow at the upper Kern is about 1400 (gallons a minute, I think?), the lower Kern is unraftable at about 850.

It has been in the 70s and 80s up in the mountains, so the snow melt has not been abundant.

Right now, the upper Kern is deep enough for rafting, but apparently not deep enough for the wild rides of previous trips.

When it gets in the 90s or 100s, the snow melts faster and the rafting is much better - it takes three days for the water to rise once it gets that hot.

We finished the first run with no problems; John takes the first few pretty conservatively until he knows the season’s terrain.

Jim either had to cool off after the run, or didn’t want to walk to the toilets.

I made two more runs down…

Some chick decided to sunbathe on the launching ramp…

…her ferocious dog kept guard to make sure nobody messed with her.

The problem with rafting on a paddle boat?

You can only take pictures before and after the rapids - and when the guide tells you to paddle, you don’t have much time to put your camera down…

Approaching deadly rapids.

Leaving deadly rapids.

Between rapids, there’s plenty of scenery to enjoy.

A chick gets her pole wet off the of Power House.

I rotated out on the fourth run down to drive the chase vehicle; I had a feeling this would be the last run - some of the non-macho people were getting tired.

I used this opportunity to try and take some pictures of the raft…

Hasta La Vista, Baby!

I drove down river and found a spot over looking the last trecherous, deadly rapid just outside of Kernville…

Each run took about 50 minutes; the beer was locked in Jose’s truck and I had to wait another 15 minutes for the raft.

Rafting is harder than most people think!

The raft approaches!

I started the video rolling on my high end $100 digital camera.

To download the RealPlayer file, click here!

John tried to navigate over the last rocks, but the paddlers were tired and the boat was pushed into an eddy below the trees.

The boat emerges!

Jose unlocked his truck and I was finally able to wash the river water out of my mouth - I still think salt water tastes better.

The ceremonial rolling up of the raft.

So, on this trip, nobody died, only one person (not me) fell out of the boat, and the only injury was that John hurt his wrist as he got catapulted to the front of the boat.

Another excellent day of cheating death!

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I made it down to Long Point at about 8:30 AM; the initial report from the divers who were there was “conditions look green.”

I snuck to The Point to see if conditions there were any better than the Cove.

Foam covered the water, the Point was rough.

I told Reverend Al and his group that if they were going to go off the Point, I was going to bring my camera.

They opted for the Cove; I chose to stay dry and start debriefing early.

I walked down with my mini-cooler and sat on the rocks, drinking Cheladas, beer and watching the ocean.

The day was gloomy, the water had a few rough spots, but Al and his group made an uneventful entrance into the water.

Kayakers also launched from the cove.

Two spear fishermen from Lancaster drove all the way here to do some hunting; they were determined to dive no matter what.

They asked, “Which way did the other divers go?”

“Towards 120 reef,” I said.

“OK, we’ll go the other way.”

I guess they shoot at anything that’s big and moves?

They made a safe rock entrance…

…and swam out a ways, almost getting run over by a boat…

A B-17 flew overhead searching for Al Qaeda submarines off our coast.

Since most of our newer planes are overseas liberating other countries and keeping the world safe for democracy, the government needs to dust off the older planes for domestic use.

Al and his group made it back in with reports of six to eight feet visibility with a lot of silt; I’m glad I stayed dry today.

Here’s a better view of the foam on the water.

The foam apparently is some sort of microorganism that tends to ruin the visibility.

Nice and relaxed from my seaside meditation, I attended the diver debriefing in the parking lot.

By the way, do you know how to pronounce “Terranea” as in the Terranea Resort?

I always thought it was Terr-AYE-nee-ah.

Apparently, it is Terra-NAY-ah.

One of our topics of conversation was how crappy the conditions have been lately; even the East side of Catalina has been reporting 20-foot visibility when 50 is common.

The Kayakers made a safe return, followed by the spear fisherman who had empty hooks.

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