For the past three years I have had the pleasure to be inspired by a four-day/three-night rafting trip with Noah’s River Adventures (http://noahsrafting.com/) on the Wild & Scenic Rogue River.
Here’s this year 3’s reflection followed by a link to year 4’s.
Into the wild and scenic with a yogi,
Several scientists, teachers, writers
A designer and a builder retired
One art historian and a social justice fighter
Three night, 43-mile Rogue River party
Padded seat, kayak, or paddle raft rowing
Churning through steep rock walls of Mule Creek Canyon
And boulder-strewn Blossom Bar Rapids before slowing
Miners, early settlers, heart of the river story
Relayed by Dustin and Abraham Lincoln (Tillman)
A bouncy rap flowed from Bobby Dee
While guides slice fruit for guests to munch on
For rock hounds, plenty of chalcedony
Into harmony, spirit, body, and mind
Whisky Creek Cabin, between Grave Creek and Rum
100 proof prospectors more into booze than 79
Glimpsed eagles, minks, a bear picking berries,
Saw turtles, but no Dove (name of a guide who is on the move)
Diverse, inclusive flotilla communities
Converse about food and love...
Those hickeys are cupping, “my lover’s a lamprey”
“Sunchocola is a sweet, smoky tomato”
“Wish you’d label your mealworms”
“I (Leon) row for burritos.”
Of separation, some discovered degrees
For shooting stars or yoga practice
“Come to your mat or situation”
While time still hums on its axis
Absorbed SPF that’s vegan, gluten-free
Swam with Tuna, a sweet pup
Learned we’re “not related to Gerbils”
(Morning) Joe and High Desert Pure many’s the giddy-up
Under the waning sun, Rebecca stung by a bee
Duckies (inflatable kayaks) dive into white water ala pochards
Austin turned into Moses right before our eyes
Since 1974, Noah’s River Ark is the vanguard
~ Just L (August 16-19, 2019)
For the past four years I have had the pleasure to be inspired by a four-day/three-night rafting trip with Noah’s River Adventures (http://noahsrafting.com/) on the Wild & Scenic Rogue River.
Here’s this year’s reflection followed by last year’s.
Rogue Love – Year 4
It feels like being in your favorite worn-in college hoodie drinking coffee on a cool morning anticipating the day’s adventure, cozy and familiar.
It feels warm on your skin like the scorching sunshine that accompanies the best whitewater of the season or a wind-powered hair dryer in the Narrows between Mule Creek and Blossom Bar, glowing (or blowing) with laughter.
It feels like a jump from a high rock into the cool rushing Rogue River in the height of August, right after your raft survived the Class V rapids, exhilarating and free.
It feels secret akin the hike to Tate Creek Falls that ends in a rope climb to the top of the waterfall, then a 10-foot drop down a natural water slide to a hidden swimming hole, a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.
It feels like walking through the Siskiyou National Forest on a summer evening, each moss-laden branch forms a cathedral of conifers that surround you, serene and breathtaking.
It feels bright as Perseids peak, a celestial event best viewed with the moonlight blocked out by the rock gorges with nearly vertical walls, towering cliffs and majestic stands of the Wild Rogue Wilderness, absolutely awe-inspiring.
The wilderness is a uniquely American idea, and it is here – in this varied magical landscape – where I feel I rediscover playing outdoors, diverse wildlife, wildly deepened friendships, and gratitude as expert guides traverse the challenging 34-mile stretch between Grave Creek and Foster Bar.
A third floor bay window is perched above the south bank of the Rio Cuale. It is in a white plaster building with raw concrete architectural details around the doorways and arches. An intentionally dilapidated villa built in 2013 presents more Old Europe than Mexican. It shelters rooms of Art Deco lighting — sconces, pendant, gilded, and art glass. Mostly hidden by a formidable Banyan Tree that has grown around a boulder at its base and extends over the river bank. A Chacalaca makes his home in its upper branches each morning. And occasionally a young black possum with a white tail or an iguana visits below. Beyond the expanse of numerous white framed beveled glass panes open to let the coastal air in is a spacious green marbled shower adorned with a gold rain shower. Any person could do a full twirl with outstretched arms without hitting one wall. There is no glass; there are no doors.
I can shout at your T Cells like we’re cheering on the Ducks
I’ll let you choose your ideal setting on the thermostat
Ride or die, I get down like that.
I can sit quietly with you
Or read graphic novels to pass the time
Make finger puppets on the ceiling or pantomime.
You’ll be frocked in a cold stress inducing sweat
I’ll layer in style to cover my pot belly
Both so fashionably forward no one is jelly.
I’ll chew tinfoil and drink protein shakes to match our tastes
Flush twice after going number two
Because sharing experiences are what sweethearts do.
Your bodily fluids don’t scare me
I shat my pants emceeing an event just last week
Babies and kittens are not the only origin stories for bleach.
Your new odor signature won’t bother a bit
I’ll remember when you smelled like mine
Touching you gently and kissing you open mouth anytime.