By
Staff Report - John Yost, river adventurer.
If the trip had ended there, it would have been a great day. The serious whitewater was still ahead, though, and that's what we were here for.
The canyon narrowed as the granite walls descended to river level and the flow pinched down into a series of fantastic rapids that demanded our full attention and skill. The first 11 miles of the trip had taken us less than three hours. The last three took us just as long, as we pulled over above big drop after big drop, to scout and plan our routes through the rocks and waves. The Class IV runs were continuous, with another one starting as soon as one ended. Every paddle stroke counted as we found narrow channels along the edges of boat-flipping drops and made tight turns through turbulent boulder fields.
With each stroke, we anticipated the grand finale, Mokelumne Falls, a Class V drop beginning right at the tail end of a long and complicated Class IV. None of the group had done the river enough to be sure which of these many tough rapids was the one that ended in the falls, so we were alert at every bend. Finally, after more than a dozen exhilarating runs, we saw the mist rising as the river disappeared over the horizon - Mokelumne Falls. We pulled over, disembarked, walked down to look at the falls and plotted our route to the only spot where the gigantic drops appeared to open up enough to allow our boats through. We plunged in, buried by crashing waves, and shot out below the falls, drenched in water and adrenaline.
Wow! What an end to a day of world-class rafting. What a gem of a river canyon. What a treasure. As the full glory of the day soaked into us, we all paused to thank the dedicated individuals who have struggled for years to make people aware of what we have in our backyards, who have negotiated with the likes of PG&E and EBMUD to keep these stretches of river alive. You don't have to be a fisherman, a boater, a hiker, a family enjoying a river beach, or a wilderness camper to appreciate the invigorating pleasure of living rivers - they are for everyone.
The struggle to protect gems like the Mokelumne goes on. This year is the 30th anniversary of the drowning of the Stanislaus River canyon by Lake Melones, an event that resulted in the creation of California's first statewide river conservation organization. Not coincidentally, Melones was also the last major dam to still a California river. The Stanislaus will be remembered on June 7 in Angels Camp's Utica Park, with films, music and discussions about balancing the water needs of the state with wild rivers.
Today, organizations like the Foothill Conservancy in Amador and Calaveras counties and Friends of the River statewide continue to fight against proposals like EBMUD's to raise the Pardee dam and drown the Mokelumne up to Electra, or the various propositions that may appear on your ballots in the next year or two to build new dams and divert water from our area to the southern half of the state. Without their efforts, places like the North Fork canyon will continue to disappear. I'm grateful California's natural blessings are being protected for me and for future generations.
