Sirens of the Middle Fork River

Knowing that a mere 11 miles stood between myself and a potential swimming spot, I was packed and headed out quickly the next morning; despite some stiff legs. As I descended through the trees I had to focus on staying in the moment and enjoying myself rather than getting fixated on the fact that I knew that every foot of elevation I dropped meant having to climb back up once on the other side. The river was at the bottom of a gorge and just past several delicious, icy cold springs. As we descended we passed a trail crew working diligently on the trail, as their dogs played overseer and watched from a comfortable looking spot in the shade. I thanked them for their work and took a moment to greet the dogs before scuttling on. I listened as the sound of rushing water became ever closer. Eventually the bridge came into sight. The heavy metal frame had been helicoptered in to where is sits now between two rock banks some 40 feet above the river itself. A truly impressive feat! Descending over a talus pile I found my way down to the water's banks and began assessing my swimming hole options even as I took my shoes off.The water was at a perfect level to be played in. It was still high enough to be flowing through plenty of side pockets, spilling from one into the next, creating perfect pockets of rock where you could rest your shoulders and allow the pummeling water massage sore hiker muscles. Then there was the center of the river where a good current ran. Moving quickly, I could make it out to a barely submerged rock and hop into the current, allowing it to carry me out into the middle of an open pool. As I floated in the calm eddies along the side I looked up the canyon walls and reveled in the moment. "You probably can't find a view like this in very many swimming pools," I thought.On the rocks along the opposite bank I first saw Gin. She had just ridden down a length of rapids on an inner tube and was tucked up onto the rock wall. I thought it unusual to see non hikers out in this area but, as always, I think its pretty rad to encounter other folk who like to come celebrate these sorts of awesome spots. I swam over and began to chat with Gin and her boy Joey. Then Liz came out to our small mooring point. We were still trying to put together one another's stories and I was still trying to figure out how all these folks had come together and ended up at such an awesome spot. Two chocolate labs began bounding about, swimming and battling over fetching sticks. Seeing all the humans localized, they flopped into the current and swam out to share our perch. Finally Kim came down the river on an inner tube, having just returned from a toiletries bag rescue mission some distance up stream. Now the story came clear, I was sharing a rock with three stunning sisters and one very lucky boyfriend. We enjoyed the sun warmed rock and I told my hiking story as Gin explored potential spots on the rock from which to jump. I decided this was a good idea and, in the spirit of showing off, went to launch myself into a deep pool. My foot slipped and I pretty much just fell in. Ah the subtle reminders...We sat and chatted some more as they told of having come down to this river since they were wee; the youngest having been carried out in a baby carrier by her mother. With every move the girls demonstrated an easy comfort with the water itself. Understanding the eddies and twists in the river wall with such ease; I was impressed. At this moment the Queen of the Middle Fork appeared, floating down the current in a large tube, with a coffee mug holder in the side. It was her perfect throne. She drifted about lackadaisically, manipulating through the eddies and pools effortlessly. Somehow she caused her tube to drift upstream without any effort.Eventually I crossed back over to my side and picked up pack. Rif-Raf and I climbed over the bridge and dropped down to the girls' campspot. Man, they knew how to do it right. As they explained, they only had about a one mile walk in to that spot, but they had to carry everything on their backs, and jeez luise, those packs couldn't have been light! Inner tubes, 2 stoves, the big comfy variety of sleeping bag, etc. etc. etc. Oh yeah, and food; which they shared. Some large and in charge cookies and any of a vast array of hot drink mixes.I looked around and was impressed at the amenities of the camp itself. Driftwood benches were scattered about. A plywood table. The rocks of the fire ring were so intricately arranged and structurally solid, I couldn't imagine a trail team investing so much effort in to one particular camp. I commented on the setup and the daughters elucidated that most of it had been their mother's doing over the course of years.As we all lounged around they told us stories of how their mom, the Queen I described from earlier, had an insatiable wandering spirit and had transmitted it to her daughters by taking them out to spots like this, hikes on the John Muir Trail, and many many others. I enjoyed witnessing the family dynamics, as they bantered and jockeyed with one another. It made me miss my own family, in particular my mother and sister (no offense boys).The interaction caused me to ruminate in my journal as to all the different ways of enjoying the outdoors. As hikers, we get caught up in our own hiker mindset. Making the miles, lightening the load, etc. This was something else entirely; and I admired it. No matter what or how you do it, get outside! I have encountered so many marvelous folk, out here in so many different styles and capacities, and each one of us is doing it just right by our own terms. That is what being out here is about; exploring ways to fulfill your spirit.