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Going With The FlowBy Jane CassieWhat do you get when you take three aging babes; one with a gimped shoulder, another a bum knee and a third who can’t even swim, and plunk them on a whitewater raft heading down BC’s Thompson River? The answer: healthy heart rates and gales of laughter. Ominous clouds hold the promise of rain, and although our banana yellow slickers will shield us from a downpour, we soon discover they don’t guard against other wet impacts that Mother Nature has in store. “Hang on tight, Team,” Simon yells over the thunderous pounding, “and let’s take on this big boy!”
Even when confronted, face to face with the wettest and wildest, Simon’s knowledge and competency instills total confidence. His certified expertise is a universal standard that Kumsheen Rafting Resort imbibes, and that’s why since 1973 they’ve enticed over two hundred thousand riders to hop on board.
Within the comfy Kumsheen confines today, a wicker basket swaddles pottery remains that were uncovered at a nearby Chinese site, a strung up washboard unites with hallmark photos to depict the gold rush days, and at night, when the propane lantern emits a soft translucent glow, the rumbling of nearby trains conjures up visions of the bygone era. Meandering trails lead from these humble abodes to other playful pastimes. Here, the adventurous collect their wits before challenging the wilds….and so did we three older gals. After our morning of getting up close and personal with ‘Shocker’ and other heart-thumping rapids like the ‘Tunnels of Love,’ we pull into Gold Pan Provincial Park for a bite of lunch and bit of river reprieve. Sun rays sear through the thin cloud cover just in time to dry out waterlogged windbreakers, and after devouring savory salads, chicken fajitas, and scrumptious carrot cake, it’s time to go with the flow again. “We’re going to team up with another crew,” Simon informs, as we all clamor back onto our twenty-two foot inflatable. “It’s always a good idea to partner while plying through the last half of this course.” Although nobody argues, we all share looks of trepidation when we review the rescue process with another raft of wave warriors. All the while, Simon wears an impish grin.
The vistas are jaw dropping and spectators along the highway also stop to take in the beauty. They seem intrigued as they watch us roll with the relaxing river. Maybe it’s because, from their position, they can see what’s coming up. “OK team, it’s time to get a grip,” Simon hollers with excitement, “and with both hands!” From our leveled viewpoint beyond the river’s gentle gyrating, we catch sight of a horizon that fumes with white water. The boiling froth spews over, what appears to be, building-size boulders, and unleashes tremendous fury to whatever comes in its wake. We’re the next ones to be engulfed. While following the leader and playing Simon says, we experience white knuckle fever while riding roller coaster rapids that buck us like a mechanical bull. We’re gobbled up by the Jaws of Death, bumped and rinsed with the Washboard’s spin, and sucked into Green Hole’s vortex. The Garburator churns, Witches Cauldron boils, and the Terminator – well, you can probably guess how it feels. Throughout the day while challenging over twenty five thrillers, our adrenaline flows faster than the surge and pounding hearts compete with the surf. As well as a day of drenching, it’s an adventure that instills a new found a feeling of exhilaration. And for three aging babes, what more could we ask for? Kumsheen Raft Adventures Ltd Images by Barb Mitchell and compliments of Kumsheen Raft Adventures |
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Our Australian guide has more vigor than Crocodile
Dundee, and we feel like his Olympian trainees when powering through the first
mammoth wall of water known appropriately as ‘The Shocker.’ Gasps escape all
twelve of our gaping mouths, and in spite of our protective raingear, we soon
become as drenched as a dozen seagoing mariners. “It’s time to shift, Group,”
Simon calls out, after resurfacing to calmer swirls. With a mischievous grin, he
circles the fuming vortex until we’re, once again at its electrifying start
gate, and after both rows shuffle forward, we have two new brave hearts at the
bow.
This procession of rotating to the front dunk-tank
seats occurs throughout the day and while we hug tight to white-tipped torrents
and catapult waves like a pack of pole vaulters, we have a blast in more ways
than one. 
The resort’s home base is scenically terraced above
the raging torrents, just six kilometers (4 miles) east of Lytton. Ponderosa
Pines and sun-bleached sage embrace the property’s quaint cabin tents that
overlook the limestone cliffs of White Canyon. Each one is decked out with a
fanfare of memorabilia that depicts their signatured titles, such as Gold Miners
Shanty, Pit House, and The Last Spike. On the previous night, the three of us
had shared Chinese Cabin, and were intrigued with its heirloom treasures and
historical tales. 
Word has it that back in 1860 when there was ‘gold
in them thar hills,’ the Chinese population flocked to the area from as far away
as San Francisco and Hong Kong. Many hung out along the muddy shores of the
Fraser, at the area known as Yale Bar, and although their second rate
citizenship prevented any personal claim staking, the clean up of gold dust
remnants that they pursued deemed to be quite profitable. 
At first, the ride is literally a breeze, and while
drifting languidly through gentle swirls and easy going currents, heat from the
overhead sun provides a warm embrace. We brush up to steep sided canyons where
grand monoliths and weather riveted hoodoos hover over us like watchful
sentinels. We pass by snaking railcars that trace the footsteps of time as they
cleave their way through granite gouged tunnels. And we ogle over the
kaleidoscope of wild life that includes soaring eagles, mule deer and nimble big
horn sheep.