A Kayaking Adventure

Here is a recap of a week long trip that I hardly talk about because of the terrible ending, none the less, it was a good trip for the most part and here is a recap.

It started like all our trips do, as an idea, and as most of our ideas, it started with... "How about kayaking down the lower Sacramento to the San Francisco Bay?". Sounding so simple, and in today's world of the INTERWEB we would be researching it before a boat ever touches the water.

This time the INTERWEB was devoid of information. If anyone has kayaked or floated the lower Sacramento from below Red Bluff to the SF Bay they have not posted it on the web. While we were not concerned about class IV or V rapids, of river of that size has other hazards and on the average several people drown every year on the lower Sacramento river.



Snags, old submerged piers and wing dams, ferry cables, overhanging trees, and the most dangerous of all, other boaters are all hazards found on the Sacramento river. With very little in the way of hard facts we were preparing to go ahead with the trip and see what came our way.



So here are the main challenges we faced, where would we put in and take out at, how long would it take, how would we arrange transportation from point to point? On top of all of this it would also be our first kayak trip longer than a few hours, how would we keep everything dry, how would we pack our gear, what would we take?

Leaving Phoenix on a Friday after work, I had 9 days off and a twenty hour drive ahead of me. I drove until I was tired and then I pulled off to sleep for a few hours.

Awakening early at my impromptu campsite I am back on the road in a matter of minutes and by late morning Coalinga comes into view. No amount of talking will tempt my son to go, so unloading one of the boats, my daughter and I are off. First stop today is Antioch to find the ending point of our trip.

With a little searching we find a public dock and there across the street is the Red Caboose, a working mans bar, near the old Fulton Shipyards, that built over fifty ships from 1926 until shutting down in 1999. Even better they agree to allow me to leave my motorcycle in their backyard, giving me a way to go get the Jeep after the trip.

Now we head north to Redding to spend the night and tomorrow we will go looking for our starting point.

After a night in Redding visiting with old friends we are hitting access points on the river early the next morning, Samantha is groggy from staying up most of the night visiting and is not much help as we drive back roads and stopping at little county parks looking for a put-in location that allows for the Jeep to remain there for the week or so we are planning for the trip.

Finally early in the afternoon we find a spot that we believe would work, off the levee, down a dirt road with easy river access to launch the kayaks. It is 110 miles in a straight line to The Red Caboose but how many river miles and adventures await us is the unknown question.

Sorting the gear, loading the kayaks, locking the jeep and taking a gps fix so I may find the spot in a few days it appears it is now time to launch the kayaks in the swiftly flowing Sacramento river. The first day goes well, while we are getting our 'sea legs'.



We find a sandbar to set up our first camp, draping our mosquito over our kayak paddles, we watch a glorious summer sunset over the river.

Early the next morning I watch a beaver near the river in the predawn light, after a light breakfast and coffee, we load the boats and push out into the current in the cool of the morning. Paddling downstream past stately old oak trees draped with wild grapes and encircled by blackberries the river is a magical place.

We see people only occasionally these first few days, once while talking to some old men fishing from the bank they inquire where we are coming from and my daughter foolishly answers 'Chico'. Drifting on and paddling when it suits us the day quickly passes.

That night after our first full day on the river we camp high upon a pile of sand the river deposited in this unusual spot. The mosquitoes are vociferous as the sun nears the horizon and again we make a tripod of our paddles and drape the netting over them to give us a place to rest.



Day three starts much like the previous one but as the miles go by we come upon more signs of mans impact upon the river. Huge pumps move acres of water, large weir dams allow even larger diversions.

Soon we arrive at our second bridge, the River Road crossing in to the rural town of Colusa. Here the levees are are more confining providing few camp sites as evening approaches. We find a spot by climbing fifty feet above the river leaving the boats tied far down below us.



Today we going down a river fully enclosed by high narrow levees and rare are the areas where the river can be a river. Bright spot is our docking at Stingrays and while the dock burns our bare-feet, in the town we are able to have a cold soda and all the street tacos we can eat before launching again in our small boats.

I ask Samantha what is going on with her hands? She says she is getting blisters so she wrapped them up, what a trooper!



The third evening finds us in a dilemma, look as we may, we are unable to find a camp site. As dusk arrives on the river we tie up to a pump and climb the rocky boulders placed to keep the levee in place and find ourselves in a maintenance yard.

Heavenly, a picnic bench, a large and flat area and tree to hang our mosquito net from. Of course we are trespassing but I am more than willing to face the consequences of my decision. Morning finds us alone, we eat, we pack, we push off into the river for another day.



Leaving early means we arrive at the mouth of the American river and we paddle our kayaks onto the beach at Tiscornia Park where I go to find us food while Samantha stays with the kayaks. After wolfing down two Grand Slams I had purchased to-go at the nearby Denny's, we again push off to continue our river trip.



We only go a short distance past downtown Sacramento before pulling into a small marina at Miller Park to check out the cool boats, stretch our legs and go for a refreshing swim. Back on the river, which is really a canal at this point, we are even more concerned about a place to camp tonight so we start looking early in the afternoon but to no avail.





[Edited on 3-6-2019 by Fatboy]

We end up camping on a small dock for the night, again we are worried that someone will come along and kick us off so we did not set up until sunset. Again, all went well, and after a hurried breakfast we are back on the water early.



We make good time and have a nice lunch, followed by ice cream in the small hamlet of Courtland.



Then it it is a relaxing paddle to Isleton where we splurge and stay in a hotel, we meet Lefty at the town dock and he lets us store the kayaks at a private residence he is watching. He is called Lefty because he has no right hand, go figure. A real dinner, our first on the trip! Chinese food and it was GOOD!


After a relaxing nights sleep in a real bed, and a real breakfast, we are off for what will be our last day on the river, at least Samantha's last day on the water. It starts off as normal, but this was going to be a day from hell that will go late into the night.

As we approach the point of Grand Island and the convergence of three channels (the ship channel and the two branches of the river coming around the island all come together here) we come to a large open area with the wind howling upstream. With the current pushing the river one way and the wind blowing another way, the result is a large area of large standing waves.

With 3' to 4' waves and high winds this is more challenging than anything we have ever kayaked in. I was for rethinking our plan, while Samantha was for going ahead. Ah, the folly of the very young, they do not even know when to be afraid. While I hesitate, Samantha starts going.

In the thick of it I start hearing a high pitched 'weeeee', turns out as Samantha crested each wave and surfed down the face of it she was crying out "WEEEE!, WEEEE!", she is having a blast. With that I relax and we quickly cross to Rio Vista where we dock and go find a second breakfast.

It is only 11am and we have about 15 miles to go to make it to the Red Caboose and the end of our river adventure. For almost the last time we push off, and the winds that we battled earlier today are blowing harder making for some tough paddling. We hug the banks searching for any relief from the tempest. We pass dozens of windsurfers that believe the conditions are just about perfect.

After a late lunch and our last stop we paddle from the Sacramento River and into the San Joaquin river delta via Sherman Lake, passing an odd looking concrete structure that it looked like people were living in. We came out facing West island and our gps had failed a few days before. We had no idea which way to go. Was the dock at the old Fulton Shipyards upstream or downstream from the island?

And tomorrow I will finish this tale and it does not end well.

[Edited on 3-6-2019 by Fatboy]

[Edited on 3-6-2019 by Fatboy]

Quote: Originally posted by AKgringo

Quite the challenge, Redding to S.F. Bay! You briefly mentioned the ship channel, but many of those reading this may not be aware that ocean going vessels travel up the river at least as far as Stockton!

Quote: Originally posted by AKgringo

Quite the challenge, Redding to S.F. Bay! You briefly mentioned the ship channel, but many of those reading this may not be aware that ocean going vessels travel up the river at least as far as Stockton!

Quote: Originally posted by Skipjack Joe

Years ago I nearly drowned my son and myself in that area. Got the anchor stuck on some bottom snags and made some bonehead decisions. The current is surprisingly fast in certain sections and can be dangerous.

Quote: Originally posted by BajaBlanca

I read the ending before the beginning and what a contrast! The photos here are just gorgeous. The ending should have been too.

Quote: Originally posted by Skipjack Joe

The shad will be running ...The camping spot with the sand looks very familiar. If that's where I think it is we called it Hawaiian Gardens. There is public access to it from the paved road that runs along the west bank... Using night photography she filmed black bears and even cougars. Things you wouldn't expect when you're on the river.