The nine scattered cabins that make up Jim Moore’s Camp among knee high grasses were all hand-hewn. I see the ax marks and wonder at Moore taking 15 years to make all the massive beams by hand. Most of the cabins still stand, with a little help from volunteers from the United States Forest Service and a designation in the National Register of Historic Places (#78001063, respectfully).

Flocks of people came through making the property’s extensive development worth the effort. Jim Moore said himself that between the years 1900 and 1902, 1,800 men came through his property as they headed upstream to Campbell’s Ferry, crossing the Salmon, and heading for the purported gold on Thunder Mountain. He said they came year-round, with backpacks and mules in the summer and snowshoes and skis in the winter.

Whether stopping for lunch or camp along the Main Salmon River, we guides oftentimes make the couple hundred-or-so-yard walk up to the terrace and take a look around Jim Moore’s Place. We tell the guests a short history of Jim and his homestead. He was born in Kentucky around 1868 and died April 25th, 1942.

As the guests are milling about and looking in cabin windows at old shoes and rusted pots, I walk towards the scree slope. I give Jim’s grave a little nod as I walk by it, acknowledging him and his long-gone, historic and generous homestead on the Salmon’s shore. As I get near the hill’s base, I take a look around, trying to remember where I left off last time. I start lifting up rocks, hoping that maybe I’ll pick the right one and find a mason jar filled with gold nuggets.

Jim started placer mining in the late 1890’s and didn’t find much. As word spread that gold was found on Thunder Mountain, Jim recognized opportunity. He raised chickens and sold eggs. He was known to make good money selling his homemade moonshine, whiskey, and peach brandy. He grew veggies and planted an orchard that still produces deliciously crisp and sweet apples for rafters and bears passing by in mid-to late summer.

I search a few more minutes. Sometimes a guest will saunter up and ask what I’m doing. I always tell them I’m hunting for Jim Moore’s lost treasure. Sometimes they help. They always laugh. I haven’t found it yet.

I allow the tiny irrational part of me to think this day might be the time I strike gold. The appeal? Fame and fortune? More, I imagine it would be remarkable handling a dusty treasure not seen since Jim’s death in 1942. Oh, and it’s full of gold, and I need a new truck.

I’d love to find the hidden treasure someday, even if that means facing Jim Moore’s ghost.

Much of Moore’s history was gleaned from Carrey and Conley’s River of No Return.

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The post Searching for Jim Moore’s Treasure appeared first on River Currents.

What prompted you to leave your lawyer life behind and become a river guide?

I was living in Flagstaff and I had a friend who worked as a guide for another company. She was determined to get me on a rafting trip. She did eventually convince me. As soon as I was there, I was gone. It was just one of those magical moments when the angels sing, and bells ring, and I knew where I was supposed to be.

Rafting is a demanding job. What drives you day in and day out?

It has been such a powerful thing for me—a healing—mentally and physically. I think it’s the way we’re supposed to be. We need to be outdoors. We need to be connected to these things, and in our day-to-day lives, we’re just not. So I really just appreciate bringing people out here and giving them that experience.

It seems like there are a lot of lady guides on the rivers now. Why do you think that is?

Well, it’s definitely a new experience for me. The last couple of years, particularly in Idaho, we’ve been getting a lot more women into the business. This year we actually are more women than men, and that’s a first. The men entertain and the ladies do the work, so it’s nice to have four ladies to do the work (laughter).

What do you think is attracting more women to guiding?

I think a lot of us find a home here. It’s good to be surrounded by other strong women. I think that’s a big part of it. We’re surrounded by other women who are like us.

What makes a strong woman?

You need a strong sense of self. To do this job, you have to have a lot of self-confidence. You have to be able to make your own decisions. In the middle of a rapid, you’re in charge of the people on your boat and you need to be able to take care of those people. So I think it takes a certain amount of strength to do that.

What’s the best moment you’ve had on the river?

I had a friend that I brought on a river trip. We visited a place that had turquoise blue waters. There was a spot where you could make a pretty good size jump into some really deep pools. He was just so excited about it. You could just see that sparkle in his eyes—that glint that he was truly alive. It let me re-experience my own revelation of what the outdoors can bring to you.

What does the outdoors bring to you?

Harmony. Balance. A sense of rightness. That feeling that this is what I was made to do. That I’m exactly where I’m supposed to be.

Watch the full interview with Erika below…

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The post Guide Talk: Women in the Outdoors appeared first on River Currents.

What do you love about Idaho?

I love a lot of things about Idaho. In terms of the rivers specifically, I really love the free-flowing aspect of the Salmon River. And everything that goes with that—huge chunks of wilderness, the Frank Church River of No Return Wilderness. There’s a lot of wild land and intact ecosystems. It’s got a real element of wild still left in it. And that obviously adds to the beauty in many ways.

What’s your favorite Idaho trip?

It’s impossible to have a favorite. You take the Salmon, for instance. You have the Middle, Main, and the Lower Salmon, and they’re all very different. The things I think that sets Idaho rafting apart from other places are the clear water, the warm water. Big natural sandy beaches everywhere, especially on the Main Salmon and Lower, and that wild environment that is going on. This is Idaho. This is wild. This is the real deal.

What do you think O.A.R.S. clients love so much about Idaho trips?

Well, the majority of trips that we do here are family trips. It just doesn’t get any better than warm water, sandy beaches, and the whole gamut of whitewater depending on the time of year. Basically, if people want to be relaxing they can do that. If people want to be active in the duckies they can do that. And usually it seems to be a really good bonding experience.

OK, I have to ask, are you wearing a skirt right now?

It turns out I am. We had a costume party last night that was a lot of fun. Evidently, someone did not make it back to the costume bag with their skirt and this beautiful little purple necklace. So I just had to put it on.

How else do you entertain clients on the river?

Really it’s just hanging out with people, having a good time, talking to people. It adds a huge dimension to the trip to learn about people’s lives.

What about glow bocce?

Glow bocce has hit the scenes hard. It’s a super fun game to play out here. You can start right after dinner and have these sparkling little glow bocces all over the place and get a real fun competition going on, especially with kids. Kids just love it.

What’s your all time favorite rapid to row?

The first 25 miles of the Middle Fork [Salmon] is just absolutely fantastic. It’s constant action, flying down through there, making moves left and right. It’s a lot of fun.

Get more of this interview. Watch below…

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The post Guide Talk: Why Idaho Rafting is Better Than Anywhere Else appeared first on River Currents.

Tourism can make positive contributions to local communities and conservation. With this in mind, O.A.R.S. established Rivers Fiji in 1997—a true community-based, ecotourism company. A Rivers Fiji adventure offer visitors to Fiji the opportunity for travel to natural areas while promoting conservation and contributing to the well-being of local people.

With such goals in mind, O.A.R.S.’ Fiji operation has also coordinated with U.S.-based doctors to bring health care to the remote, interior rain forest of Viti Levu, Fiji’s big island. Dr. Gregory Juckett, MD, MPH is one doctor who helps Rivers Fiji give back to the community. We sat down with him to talk about the Rivers Fiji health project…

Q:  How did you get involved with the Rivers Fiji health project?

A:  I first heard about the need in Nakavika Village from (the directors) of Rivers Fiji during their visit to WVU to plan “Adventure WVU” in Fiji. Nakavika sounded like an ideal site for a medical outreach clinic for our senior medical students studying Global Health. My physician colleague Dr. Jan Palmer joined the mission.

Q:  What inspires you to offer your expertise, time and energy to such projects?

A:  These rotations can be a wonderful learning experience for everyone involved: students, faculty and patients. The medical team sets up a clinic and provides much needed care in a cross-cultural setting. During medical school, my overseas rotation in Rwanda was the most life-changing part of my medical education and something I want my students to experience.

Q:  What are some challenges faced when providing health care in the remote interior of the Fiji Islands?

A:  Logistics. First we must obtain medical donations. Meds that can’t be donated must be purchased, which gets expensive. Temporary medical licenses must be obtained with government approval. All items must be packed for Fiji, fees paid, and paperwork completed to get everything through customs.

It also took a year of planning to get a WVU Engineers Without Borders team to Nakavika to address their drinking water needs. The team installed sand filters for water purification, providing Nakavika with a long-term public health benefit.

This past year there was Cyclone Daphne, which dumped massive amounts of rain creating a national state of emergency. The access bridge to the village washed away and equipment had to be ported by hand across the river. Fiji was essentially paralyzed, but Rivers Fiji managed to get us to Nakavika and our clinic went off without a hitch.

Q:  That must have left you with some great memories.

A:  What might sound like a disaster was actually a wonderful experience for everyone. Fijian hospitality in the village, kava ceremonies, and a sense of humor by all. Our students were thrilled by the friendships they made and the beauty of the Fijian highlands.

Q:  Would you do it again?

A:  The answer is, of course, yes. Fiji, even during cyclone season, is a very, very hard place to leave.

Gregory Juckett, MD, MPH is Professor of Family Medicine at West Virginia University, Morgantown, where he is also Director of the University’s International Travel Clinic. He received a medical degree from the Pennsylvania State University College of Medicine, Hershey, and a Master’s Degree in Public Health from West Virginia University. He completed a family medicine residency at the Medical University of South Carolina, Charleston. Dr. Juckett has a Certificate of Knowledge in Tropical Medicine and Travelers’ Health and a Certificate in Travel Medicine. He has extensive short-term medical experience in the developing world and serves on the board of Children’s Relief International.

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The post Giving Back in Paradise appeared first on River Currents.

“Hey Reeg,” I say, watching him wading chest deep, offshore in the frigid river, well past sundown, when most normal river guides should be sipping scotch (as I happen to be). He is sponging off the scum line from his hand-made dory, the Escalante, his beauty and dream.

He looks up at my quizzical smile, offering up all I will get: his characteristically inscrutable look through a knowing gray beard, saying nothing.

He doesn’t talk much anyway, though I must admit he himself is probably expecting a typically smart-aleck comment from me. I must, of course, oblige. Over the years I’ve been observing, and finally have been drawn into participating in this little pre-Lava ceremony since I came to the Dories.

“So, Regan, is that a ritual? Tradition? Superstition?”

“Tradition” is all he says, and gets back to work. He doesn’t want to get into a long-winded conversation about it. Partly because he’s the near-naked sopping wet freezing one, partly because that’s just who he is, anyway.

“Superstition,” mutters a client sideways, wandering by along the beach.

I smile and watch Regan for a while, then the conch shell blows and its time to eat and entertain before wandering off to my dory’s deck to watch the stars wheel within our exquisite little band of sky. As I drift off to sleep on my deck, listening to the riffle’s whoosh and as naked as my soul will be just thirteen miles downstream, this little exchange won’t let me be. And so, giving in, I secretly slip over the side into the gentle eddy current, ever-present dory sponge in hand, to wash off my own craft’s scum line. Tonight a glistening Sam McGee. Tomorrow, Lava Falls.

Sliding slowly into the tongue of liquid silk which conveys one into the maelstrom known as Granite Falls, I wink and tell my clients to hold on, high-side the sh..t out of this one, and watch Dr. Dre (a.k.a. Andre Potochnick, our trip leader), who is piloting his graceful but insubstantial Black Canyon in front of us. I know without question he is about to initiate his own little ritual. As if on cue, he rises to his feet in his boatman’s footwell, nonchalantly hitches up his worn, stained Patagonia red knickers, stretches his arms high above, then clasps them behind his head, and adjusts his sombrero, all the while contemplating the insane path he has once again chosen.

Go ahead and call it what you like. At its heart it’s really about respect. Respect of the thin ribbon between life and death. Respect of the power of a river, which, perhaps with the same ever-increasing speed with which old age comes, or maybe with the slow eternity it takes for our first kiss to get here already, is still always taking you somewhere.  I know I’m small. Please let me through.

Red lipstick, colorful ribbons plaited in the hair. Old fingerless gloves, or my dead friend Ray Interpreter Junior’s keening howl. Wesley’s bubble bath in the footwells whilst the nervous boatmen were busy scouting Lava.

Yeah. Heroes. Keeping our craft upright, our clients safe, and our egos and boats un-bashed. Not to mention slicing the tomatoes no more than 3 millimeters thick, tearing down La Pooperia, leading hikes to waterfalls and overlooks we’ve seen a hundred times and pray we get to see another hundred.

Human, more like it. Ibuprofen popping, mostly hard drinking (never to the point of drunkenness or hangover, of course), watching our bodies age and skin develop scary little black things quivering masses of…what did a friend call us? “Talented misfits.” Why we’re here is as much about not ever being able to quite fit into the man-made, rule-infested, badge-wielding, follow-the-leader world as it is about pretending to be some sort of demigod. It is no more about that illusion now than it was a thousand years ago, when some lucky bastard tripped just before the arrow hit him, and a legend was born. We boatmen cope by stumbling our way through a world which daily wallops us in the backside with its unwillingness to be controlled, its fierce independence and wild beauty, its absolute acceptance. Kind of like the woman that chose me to be her mate.

For me, it’s dipping into the river like a holy baptism in the Church of Get Up and Do It, in the scout eddy just upstream of whichever rapid has its hold on me that particular year, which eternally seems to include Hance, Crystal, and Lava Falls. ALWAYS Hance. Crystal, and Lava Falls. And a ragged print shirt. I can’t tell you which one, having worn through so many over nearly forty years. Suffice to say, it’s whatever piece of gaily colored cotton or rayon that is my current treasure and solace. It used to be my trusty hat: straw in the early hippie years, now an off-white Stetson beaver-felt cowboy hat called, the “Gus,” with three ventilation holes on either side and a “stampede” strap to keep it put. Holds the nice, cold water a long time in that hot stinkin’ desert. Nowadays, however, what with all the dang rule-makers busy as little beavers up there on the rim, I gotta wear a helmet in the biguns.

A helmet, for crissakes. Most of us that came down here did so because, well, let’s just be nice and say we’re iconoclasts by nature. Anti-authoritarian. Individualistic. You’d trust me with your life, but not your wife or daughter. You’d grip my wrist and let me haul your behind up that last chockstone in Saddle Canyon, but dollars to doughnuts you wouldn’t hire me to run your business. No worries. I wouldn’t want to, anyway.

And always, everyone, raft or dory or kayak, motor or oar, commercial or private trip, friend or stranger–always just as we push off to go run it, this exultant shout of joy and release, ecstasy and tension. A bellow of freedom given without reservation to all comrades within earshot, including whatever spirits happen to be winging in, watching the show. Echoed above the thunder and held aloft by the blazing air, soaring ever higher, eyes clear, hearts vulnerable yet stout, body as ready as worn shoulders, wrists and backs allow:

“Have a great run!”

After all, these are your pards. They have your behind and you have theirs. They’re going through just exactly the same belly-groaning joy you are. The clients cannot help but notice, are keen to join in. It’s all a bout the camaraderie. Sure, we love our river. Our Canyon. Our desert. We’re the luckiest bastards alive. But without each other, what are we? Without these things, how else do we gird our loins for battle or dance?

Our rituals hold us and place us just so, in the right spot on the earth, remind us we are not the first or the last. They help us pay tribute to some higher power I cannot name but plainly feel with every step I take down there. Try, and often fail, to remind myself of up here.
Which is why I keep going back.

In my garage, I have scrawled a note and pinned it to the wall. My wife understands, even as it makes her ache a little:

“Anywhere else, I am something less.”

This Grand Canyon rafting trip story is scheduled to appear in the Winter issue of Canyon Voices and will be featured among other established and emerging artists, not only from Arizona, but from all over the country.

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The post Grand Canyon River Rituals appeared first on River Currents.

Approaching his 13th season with O.A.R.S., Lars has been a cornerstone of our Canyonlands operation. He’s seen his share of big whitewater, paints a pretty fancy toenail and delivers the best star talk you’ll likely ever hear on a river trip.

In 2011, we had a record breaking year for high water in Cataract Canyon. What stories come to mind when you reflect on that experience?

I stayed here in Moab, waiting to see that high water, and I finally got my chance. So there I was, in this oversized tin can, floating downstream with a family of four. We gave them every chance to get out of the boats and into the motorboats, but they said, “Nope, we’re with you guys all the way,” so I said, “Alright, here we go,” and untied our bowlines above Big Drop 1. We made it through Big Drop 1 and entered into Big Drop 2. I was the lead boat, and all of a sudden I found myself on a roller coaster of emotions. The first emotion was, “Oh my gosh, we’re really doing this, we’re really going to pump through this rapid at this amazing high flow. No one else is out here rowing this, it’s just us.” Then the roller coaster plunged off the backside and I had this horrible sinking feeling as I realized I was not making my move. And to make the move in Big Drop 2, you really have to be on the far, far right side of the river, almost brushing against the shore.

The dory didn’t make it. We were headed into a little feature we call Little Niagara, and as I dropped into that I gave it one hard push, and the dory just stood up and we looked at the sky and I thought to myself, “Wow, this roller coaster’s coming out, I’m going to make it over the backside!” and there came that sinking feeling again as we drifted back down into the pit. Then the dory flipped, we all swam, but all’s well that ends well. We were all smiling afterwards, eating lunch.

What runs through your head when dropping into Big Drop 2 and 3 at 90,000 CFS? Do you do anything special to prepare?

So when you’re down there running big water like that, before you push off from shore there’s a lot of stuff going through your mind. But once you tie up your bowline, coil it up, stow it away, my favorite technique is just to empty my head. Empty my head and let my body and brain take over because they know what to do. If I let my emotions get in there, that’s just going to get the best of me and stand in the way of me running a perfectly good line. So what I like to do is just focus, focus, focus on my run. Sometimes I close my eyes, take a deep breath, and visualize the rapid from top to bottom. Visualize every feature in that rapid, and what I need to do as a boatman to get my boat through those features and into the eddy down below.

Do you feel more comfortable rowing a raft or a dory in big whitewater? Why?

One of the things I like most about rowing a dory in any whitewater, but especially big water, is the fact they can just slice through the biggest wave. A wave that would take a rubber raft and smash it, crush it, knock it sideways and dump its occupants into the river. A dory will take that in stride, it was built for that. They were designed to slice through these waves, in the ocean, to go out and fish. We’ve taken that design to the next level now with these decked compartments and beautiful wood working; I think the dory is the ultimate craft for big water. If I had my choice, I’m gonna be in a dory every single time.

Watch the rest of this interview in the video above.

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The post VIDEO: There’s No Place Like High Water appeared first on River Currents.

George Wendt will be honored this week by Friends of the River with the prestigious Mark Dubois Award at the 2012 California River Awards.  The event honors those who have made outstanding contributions to river conservation, preservation and protection.

We might be a little biased, but that’s not the only thing that makes him a river hero in our eyes…

George, who is also co-founder of Sobek and recipient of the Adventure Travel Trade Association’s Lifetime Achievement Award, is a true pioneer in the adventure travel industry. His passion for running rivers was born in the 60s, when he became one of the first 1,100 people to descend the Colorado River through the Grand Canyon. In the decades since, O.A.R.S. has set the standard for first-class rafting, as well as environmentally and culturally responsible travel, on over 35 rivers and coastlines worldwide.

George has run first descents on some of the world’s most legendary rivers, fought to include California’s Tuolumne River in the National Wild and Scenic River System and helped to establish the Upper Navua Conservation Area in Fiji. He has also testified before the U.S. Senate Subcommittee on River Preservation, and through O.A.R.S. spearheads donations totaling more than $70,000 per year to dozens of conservation efforts. He has donated countless hours and river trips in support of youth, community and conservation causes and has helped introduce more than 500,000 people to the beauty of rivers and the natural world.

Don’t miss the video above to see how it all got started as George recounts some of his early rafting and conservation days.

Got another river hero you think we should know about?  We’d love to chat with them.  Tell us who it is below and why you think they’re a river hero.

The post Get to Know This River Hero… appeared first on River Currents.

Hi, O.A.R.S.,

I have taken 2 trips with you (the Tatshenshini River trip and the Chilco trip) and was last with you, on the Chilcotin, about 7 years ago. As then, I still have arthritis so am unable to paddle on a river trip, but the Grand Canyon trips always look wonderful from your pics and write-ups. I would especially like to go down that river in a dory.

Would that be possible for me? Would I be better suited, as I would have difficulty rowing, in a raft or is that, too, rather out of my capabilities?

Glad you are still taking people to these many places … Living where I do, in Nelson, BC, I have experienced much of the natural landscape so know how much these kind of offerings mean to an ever more human-imprinted world,

 — Cheers, Glenda

Dear Glenda,

The Tat and the Chilco/Chilcotin are 2 of the coolest rivers ever. The Colorado through the Grand Canyon is more than just an incredible river trip. It’s about the enchantment, being soaked in magic as well as cold water.

It’s just that good. You will love it, or I’ll eat my toque.

You don’t need to paddle, darlin’. Just dance with the water like you already have, and you’re in. I happened to pioneer Grand Canyon river trips for folks with disabilities, so I know what I’m talking about (for a change).

First off, dories are absolutely the most graceful and fun craft on the river. As Grand Canyon Dories’ founder Martin Litton once said: “They just BELONG!”.

There are plenty of places to hang on to in a dory (which is a good thing if I’m rowing), and they’re more comfy to sit in than most rafts. Padded seat. Wood handles. Backrest. Cup holder. Satellite radio. (Just kidding on those last 2).

I have to assume you have meds for your arthritis, and that all that rocking and rolling and leaning into the waves that your body hasn’t done in years is going to be OK after a pill and some sleep on a foam pad.

I also have to assume that you’ll be able to hold on in whitewater (like riding the hood of your car while going through the car wash), and if on the off-chance you end up in the drink, you can dog-paddle around in your life jacket until we pick your soggy behind up. Also that you can walk on sandy, sometimes rocky beaches at camp, just like on your previous rivers.

Riding in a dory is a bit more active than in a raft, since you have to keep the thing “trim” by leaning this way and that, and have to lean into the waves. I have taken some folks in dories that had a weaker grip on things. Come to think of it, I myself generally have a rather weak grip on things.

You just have to be honest with yourself, and with O.A.R.S., about your condition. I’d suggest a chat with Joy in the office, or she can direct you to my lovely wife, Carrie, who has joined me on several dory trips, as well as those original Jumping Mouse disabled trips. She’ll know the questions to ask, can help you evaluate whether you’ll be able to go or not, and whether or not you might consider bringing along a helper for camp.

If you end up going, the crew will need to be aware of your abilities and dis-abilities, so they’re prepared. They might want to put you in a bigger boat, or make sure the water levels will be right, or have a strong hand available to help out when needed.

I’m all about accessing the wilderness for all. I created and led the first Grand Canyon river trips for folks with disabilities, including paraplegic folks, people with M.S., M.D., C.P., all those acronyms. With a little pre-trip planning and thought, I’d say feed your soul.

(Come to think of it, I say that all the time).

— River God

The post Ask A River God: What If I Can’t Paddle? appeared first on River Currents.

Every once in a while, though, we get feedback from guests who describe the magic or transformation we hope to foster in words we wouldn’t have thought to use, in descriptions that surpass even our expectations.

Chris and Belinda Manuel, of Denver, CO, recently joined us on a Yellowstone-Grand Teton Explorer trip. They sent us a note following the trip that quickly got passed around the O.A.R.S. staff:

“At the end of the trip, on the drive back to the hotel, I remember looking at all the people parked on the side of the road or at the turn-offs taking pictures of the Grand Tetons. I remember feeling a little sorry for all of them because many of them were not ‘experiencing’ the park like we did. They were only going to capture a picture and then get back into the car. The park is so much more than a picture, and you get to appreciate this on your OARS adventure. Last year was our first O.A.R.S. trip. We enjoyed it so much that this year we are going with O.A.R.S. down the Colorado River to experience the Grand Canyon. We wanted more than a picture.”

Thank you, Chris and Belinda.

We can’t wait to see you on the Grand Canyon.

The post Guest Feedback: Yellowstone And Grand Teton National Parks appeared first on River Currents.

With 8 rafting trips under his belt last year alone, you could say that Matt Hatcher of Hatcher Winery has uncorked more wine riverside than any other winemaker. For the past 6 years, he has been a familiar face on O.A.R.S.’ Wine on the River trips where fine wine and gourmet food are as big of a draw as the paddling action.

I sat down with Matt at his winery in Murphys, CA, to talk about what makes Wine on the River trips so special.

Are you an outdoorsy person?

I’m probably not as outdoorsy as I’d like to be. My idea of camping is two or three days without a shower. My idea of camping is bringing enough really good food along that you ate twice as much as you would have at home. Usually camping, there’s the best wine. And I get to do that with O.A.R.S. There’s always room for the wine and the beer. I think that’s what outdoors should be. It should be a good experience. And my idea of a good experience is being comfortable.

What has been your favorite food and wine experience on the river?

I did a trip on the Middle Fork of the Salmon River last year and the chef did wild meat every night. It was 4 to 5 nights and every night was something interesting. Whether it was wild salmon, wild boar, wild elk, or wild deer, they were all done really well. It was a lot of fun to pair wine with them. And you know what, it doesn’t matter. The wine is going to taste good and so is the food because you’re out on this amazing river. You can eat peanut butter and jelly and it’s going to be the best PB&J you ever had. Chef Bob comes to mind too. It’s been talked about many times, but on the last night of the Rogue River he does a filet with a Jack Daniels sauce and he flames them up, so I think that’s pretty darn neat.

Your idea of camping is bringing really good food and wine. And O.A.R.S. brings a chef along. Tell me what people might see paired with your wines on the river.

Usually it will start with cheeses and some really nice breads or crackers. I would pair that with a Sauvignon Blanc, Pinot Grigio or Viognier. Probably half way through that, there’s something coming off the fire, which might be a skewer with ridiculously large prawns or some kind of really great meat. And that would usually pair with a Zinfandel or maybe a Merlot. Something more medium bodied. When we talk about a main course we get toward our heavier wines. We make a Rhone blend, a Syrah, a Petite Syrah, Meritage and a Cabernet. All these wines are big food wines. There’s plenty of everything. I generally bring enough wine for a bottle per person per night. And then there’s usually something else extra too.

Are people surprised by Wine on the River trips?

People are usually a little apprehensive about whether or not it will be as good as what’s shown in the pictures. And they wonder where all the wine is. O.A.R.S. doesn’t want you to know this, but they could bring the kitchen sink along. It just takes another raft.

You’ve been doing these trips for 6 years. What do you think makes Wine on the River trips so special (besides having killer wine each night, of course)?

Those guides love what they do. They’re having a better experience than you are. They don’t mind lugging all that stuff off the rafts, lugging it all back in the morning and then going rafting for half the day.

Do you have a favorite river?

I’ve been all three legs of the Salmon River and they’re incredible. The Middle Fork of the Salmon is supposed to be one of the most beautiful rivers and it’s incredible. The Main Salmon — which is probably my favorite — you’re talking 50-100 yard sandy beaches every night, hot springs, bigger rapids. And the Lower Salmon is similar to the Rogue where there’s some big water but also some more relaxing, lay on the raft kind of rafting. But I did the Rogue River three times one summer and I didn’t get tired of it. Each river, like a bottle of wine, has these things that are more enjoyable about them or more technical. Each one is very special. That’s the fun of it.

Matt Hatcher has been making wine in the Sierra Foothills at his namesake winery, Hatcher, since 2002. At his tasting room in historic Murphys, CA you can find a Zinfandel for every mood (he makes four), as well as a slew of other varietals (if it grows well in the region, he makes it).

Want to do a Wine on the River trip with Matt? He’ll be on the Tuolumne May 15-17 and the Rogue September 18-22.

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