
"The rapids called. We answered. Again."
Before it was ours it was Mark's. Nigel's dad ran this trip when Nigel was a kid — no group text, no RSVP link, no headcount spreadsheet. He handwrote letters to his friends, hung a flag where the river could find it, and hoped enough of them showed up.
The flag said Don't Give Up The Ship — Perry's battle flag off Lake Erie, 1813, which is a lot of sentiment for a stretch of Oregon basalt and that is exactly the point. We kept the flag, the name, and the hoping. The letters are now a Google Form. Sorry, Mark.

Last August we launched, we paddled, we lost exactly zero crew members, and the books balanced. That's a successful voyage — anything you can float away from counts. So we're doing it again: camping at Oak Springs, rafting the Deschutes from Wapinitia Rapids down to camp, and eating like people who did absolutely nothing to deserve it.
We're not saying last year went swimmingly… but only because most of us stayed in the boat. Those who didn't are now part of the trip's oar-al history. Splash bragging rights are forever.
Schedule subject to current events. (River joke. The current. You get it. You groaned. Good.)
Camp sits right at Oak Springs, so the run ends at the tents. Nobody floats past camp toward Sandy Beach — Sherars Falls below it is Class VI and not a suggestion.
Featured attraction, returning by popular demand: the crawdad hunt. Last year our littlest platinum-blonde deckhand out-fished the adults and ate her catch on the spot. It was a "Craw Daddy Delight." The crawdads have been notified we are coming back.









RSVP by August 7. Plus-ones welcome — plus one through plus one hundred. Point positive, paddle hard. Mark would have mailed you a letter; you get a link.