by Ian Fodor-Davis | May 30, 2017 | Guide Profiles
Daily Routine of a Lochsa River Guide
It’s still dark when I open the rain fly. Six thirty. I swear I just walked away from the hot fire and cold drinks to pass out happily by the rushing river.
Morning Preparations: Assembling the Crew and Equipment
Quietly, we round up the crew and head downriver. We have two hours to get everything in place before the guests show up. The team breaks off into individual tasks, some fill and rig rafts while others count helmets and life vests. It’s always a guessing game sitting in Lochsa country. No cell service. No way to change the plan.
Coffee is consumed rapidly in between stacking rafts higher than a bus or piling paddles into the trailer. What looks like chaos to the few guests that show up early to watch “guide TV” all flows smoothly together as the rest of the cars start to show up. The essential gear is handed out and the bad jokes start to roll. You can feel the excitement and anxiety pouring off the paddlers. Many have never been whitewater rafting before. I play the role of comedian, teacher, and, of course, guide.
The bus ride is filled with questions and stories of river trips past. The boat ramp is a flurry of work as the rafts get shoved in the water and pumped full. The PFDs are snugged tight and the helmet cams are rolling. The work’s not done for the day yet but for the next few hours, everyone that worked hard all morning gets to enjoy the thing that brought us all together. The river.
On the River: Immersed in Nature and Adventure
The miles flow by quickly. A hot lunch is much needed on cold water trips. We prep and cook as guests lounge in the sun or crowd around the heater in the rain, reliving the trip this morning. Service with a smile, and usually a bad joke or two. The dishes are washed and ready for the next day, we load up for the final 10 miles of river.
Post-Raft Rituals: Take-Out Procedures and Gear Cleanup
The takeout is the same flurry in reverse: restack the rafts, collect the helmets and vests, and load them back into the bus. While the guests revel in the glory of a day on the mighty Lochsa, the guides get to work. Gotta wash and hang dry all the gear and get it sized and put back in place for the next day.
The rafts deflated and the sun hanging low in the sky, we head back upriver to our fire and cold beverages. Six thirty is gonna come quickly tomorrow and I couldn’t be happier about it.
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by Ian Fodor-Davis | Jan 4, 2017 | Guide Profiles
From the adrenaline rush of navigating surging rapids to the quiet moments of reflection on nature’s beauty, my first year as a whitewater rafting guide was an unforgettable journey. This is my rafting guide experience—a story of courage, camaraderie, and respect for the raw power of the river.
The Thrill of the Rapids
I position the bright blue raft a little too far left in the river but have run out of time for a correction. Excitement and fear rising in my chest, I grip the oars and hope we will hit the surging wave at the right angle. All I can do sometimes is hope.
“ALL FORWARD! PADDLE FORWARD!”
My voice is a high-pitched screech. I’m just as nervous as the folks seated in front of me. We crash over the rapid just inches away from a rock, bumping then sliding through. Frigid water careens over us. The right side of the raft dips a little too low pitching everyone to the side. Screams and laughter bounce off the rock face along the shore as my oar is jerked from the oarlock. I’ve got to keep the raft from hitting the next rock, but I have lost control. I grab for the oar, no one in the front of the raft notices my frantic scramble. My arm is wrenched forward as the current catches the blade of the oar, raft starts to spin. Oar snaps into place, headcount, deep breath, back on track.
Embracing the River’s Energy
A little rattled, I let the water’s energy calm my racing heart. Breathe in. Breathe out. I watch the river’s ripples float past, never making the exact same shape, a constant dance of newness. In the front of the raft, the clients laugh and make dinner plans. I ignore them for a minute. Turning my head left, I see layers of mountains backed up by a blue and white sky. For a second I am lost in them. A bald Eagle floats overhead. I make a quick prayer to the river, giving her my gratitude and asking for her protection, then snap back to reality, it’s time to have some fun.
A Community on the Water
Afternoon sunlight glints off the river’s surface, a myriad of sparkles spreading outward. We take turns telling jokes, travel stories, and talking about our favorite sports. Our raft floats past fishermen, kayakers, other rafters, and beachgoers in brightly colored swimsuits. We hoot, shout, and holler back and forth. River people are their own breed. A whole community whose dominant intention is joy, excitement, and appreciation. On the river, there is a silent agreement, we will always help someone in need. The stakes are too high to be individualistic. This quiet agreement creates a wonderfully eccentric harmony.
I wasn’t exactly sure what whitewater raft guiding entailed when I decided to take the job. I knew I could do it, whatever it was. I’ve never been afraid of the outdoors. The Zoo Town Surfers headquarters is located on the Alberton Gorge about thirty miles west of Missoula, Montana. There were several of us training to become guides, mostly men. Our first trip down the Gorge, an eleven-mile stretch of the Clark Fork River with class II and III rapids, was terrifying, exciting, and super cold. It was late May. Even dressed in wetsuits and dry suits we were shivering. The summer spiraled out from that cold start into an exhilarating, exhausting, and magical set of memories and lessons learned.
Lessons Learned on My Rafting Guide Journey
I learned that the river’s force can be lethal. There is no space for anything other than the task at hand. Letting go of control is inevitable as the river’s power propels the raft forward. There can be no fighting against, instead the flow must be ridden with trust, courage, and ease. It is a deeply respectful partnership, river and guide, but both know, the river holds the power. Power of water surging onward, falling, cascading. The sound, the energy, the flow, tumbling toward its destiny. We’re all tumbling toward our destinies. Truths, moments, and lessons constantly reveal themselves. The ripple, the current, can’t slow it down, must move at its pace or it will drown you. The river arranges her shores into rock faces, exposed pastel colors displayed on towering surfaces. Teaches us vulnerability is beautiful. Teaches us, that there’s nothing wrong with turning inside out and showing what we are made of.
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