Year 48 — A Season to Remember

Tieton staff on training run.

I'm not going to lie. I was dreading the 2025 river season. I was hopeful, but the hopefulness did not quell the dread I had of going into a season with NO returning fully active guides.

Then — in the middle of the winter — I heard from Sierra who was coming up from Big Bend National Park in west Texas with a truck outfitted for a true nomad and multiple years of guiding experience.

I heard from Gary who last guided a raft for Orion River Rafting in the mid-80s. He said he was attending Guide Training (for a second time) to brush up on his skills, learn about self-bailing boats and, even though he's comfortably retired and living in West Virginia with his lovely wife, Lydia, he had plans to be in Seattle for much of the summer working on a family project.

And he thought he might just be able to squeeze in some guiding.

I heard from Elizabeth whose nickname when she last guided for Orion was 'Evil' but that was back at the turn of the century when she was young and mischievous. Now, she was back in Seattle hoping to reconnect after a good chunk of her lifetime in Louisiana.

I heard from Katrina who had attended Guide Training in 2020 but had hardly dipped her toes into guiding commercially. Now that several of her friends from WWU (and a delightful 2024 December Canyon trip) had opted to join one of our two spring trainings, she promised to be 'around for the summer'.

Then as higher water was approaching, I heard from Raine who was advocating for Lauren. They had worked together back East on the Nantahala. Lauren came to the CCC looking for a place to land for a season. Her timing was perfect.

Erick, an Orion Guide Training alumnus from several years back who had worked primarily for Blue Sky so as not to 'take work' from hungry guides, opted to devote his high water weekends to working for Orion.

Miraculously, as the heavy season drew closer, everything began falling into place.

Orion has had some memorable guide classes starting with the first five employees we were compelled to hire in 1980 because the business had grown beyond what my partners and I could accommodate.

Sharon, Gary, Kirk, Scott and Kelly were solid guides from the get-go. Safety conscious, service-oriented and — for the most part — mature for their age.

1986 was the first season we ran two guide trainings. Out of those trainings there were multiple staff members with great guiding longevity — Tammy, Ann, John and Emily.

1993 was the year of Ann, Clyde, Jeremy and the notorious, legendary Kook. Kook was the furthest thing from a guide but became a testament to what tenacious stick-to-it-ness can accomplish.

2008 was the 'Shackleton' Guide Training when snow flurries interrupted River Olympics, frozen wetsuits were the norm and the hills surrounding the Deschutes appeared to be ski-able. Liam, Colin, Ari and Mary came out of that guide training and, in the same season, the our rafting property, known as the CCC (Chumstick Country Club — ‘cuz it gets country real quick out there), came into existence.

Every guide training has brought wonderful people into my life and into the community. Those are just a few that stand out in my mind.

And, now, we have the class(es) of 2025.

Despite uncertain water, a warehouse of new faces and a harried conclusion (over the last month, at least for myself), it was an incredible season.

This class will be forever known as the one that rekindled the flame...for me.

And, for that alone, they deserve to be placed on the 'memorable' — and unforgettable — shelf.

My heartfelt thanks to all y'all — Alex, Paetra, Cora, Rowan, Ash, Arijs, Miranda, Benji, Judah, Dan, Anna-Sofia, Andrew, Kyle and Sam.
~~~

And our HR Director, Dana, would like to thank you for a drama-free, hug-rich season.

Happy Off-Season to All!

Reclaim Your Time

I had a pleasant, rejuvenating respite on the river over the past five days.

If you are unfamiliar with the joys of boating a river, let me recreate it a bit for you.

After some angst over the food menu and laborious packing of everything, as well as the kitchen sink, you arrive at the place on the river where you launch your craft eager to put, attach or strategically place - so that gravity does the work for you - all those things you brought.

Like the lawn chair. The bocce ball set. The portable blender. A keg of beer.

This is rafting. Not backpacking. Not sea kayaking. Not bicycle touring.

Weight never enters your mind when you are prepping your trip. Some people bring waterproof river bags the size of wine casks, and nearing the same weight, that are chock full of nothing but costumes and costuming related items like feather boas, stiletto heels and makeup. Of course, they bring other bags of similar weight and heft with their essentials - sleeping bag, clothes, toiletries, hardback tomes like Sacajawea.

On one Grand Canyon river trip we had one raft dedicated solely to multiple beer kegs and multiple dozens of eggs. It was quickly dubbed the “Kegs and Eggs” boat. It was convenient because you were sure to never wander onto that boat for any other reason. You were either getting ready to make the night’s kegger happen or you were making an omelette. However, just as extended families should avoid all flying at the same time on the same plane, putting all of your kegs - and eggs - in one boat, may not be the wisest choice.

Because rafts can carry a considerable amount of weight, cooler manufacturers do not have to scrimp on thick plastic these days. Most coolers are back breakers before you add the ice and the contents. Though, as an added benefit, food remains fresh longer and beer stays cold longer. It was rare in the old days to lose weight on a river trip, and it is even more rare now.

So, you’ve arrived at the launching point with great anticipation and now the flotsam and jetsam of all the party members and the typical flotsam and jetsam of every river trip - tarps, pumps, jugs, boxes - are strewn before you like a haphazard Bear Grylls garage sale. You manage to puzzle it all out to fit into the rafts at hand, even if it means spreading stray cans of pop or beer into the bilge of your raft, as we once did on the Middle Fork of the Salmon out of desperation.

The author of a New York Times article once described overnight raft trips as voluntarily moving your buddy out of their two bedroom apartment twice a day. I cannot take umbrage to that description. But you can think of it as cross-fit training.

And then you cast away from shore and your boat is caught by the downstream pull of the river and you realize another distinct difference from backpacking - none of the weight is on your back! And the river - like one of those moving walkways at the airport - whisks you away. Occasionally you have to put a little effort into rowing in order to make any progress.

So, there you are. Surrounded by nature and all of your stuff and - depending on the time of day and the nature of your fellow companions - maybe a Stinker thermal mug of coffee or a close to frosty beer can freshly pulled from that overpriced cooler that ought to be measured by the tonnage rather than the volume.

Once the launch ramp disappears, so begins the fading of the cares and troubles in the world. As of today, cell service sucks in most of the remote river canyons. Therefore, your umbilical cord to the daily madness gets cut as dramatically as if you entered an underground vault or the world’s longest railroad tunnel. Your attentions have nowhere to go but toward your fellow adventurers, to the tasks at hand, to the most immediate needs, to the herd of bighorn sheep nibbling their way up the canyon wall, to wondering what the weather might do and whether or not you remembered your rain jacket.

Everything you need is with you. Afloat. So, at the least, for the next five days, week, three weeks, month, your world has been reduced to the river you are traveling on and the pack of humans you are traveling with. What’s the meal and where’s the camp and how am I going to be entertained this evening?

I’ve done hundreds of these overnight river trips and I can only remember one group’s dysfunction that soured the memory and even that river trip is memorable and edifying for its own reasons.

That (what I described above) is where I’ve been over past several days. Disconnecting to reconnect. Feeding off the positive energy of the natural world and the good-natured people who accompanied me. Contemplating nothing heavier than the health of my loved ones and whether those sprinkles in the middle of the night were the portent of a deluge.

No matter how you choose to disconnect, in order to reconnect - river trips, long distance running, meditation - if I am a ‘pusher’ of any advice, it is the value of taking that time for yourself.

Reclaim your time. I assure you, you will feel the better for it.

Messing About in Boats

It’s that time of the year.

Snow still blankets the mountains. Snow removal trucks continue to lumber up and down wintry roads. Birds have not yet started migrating back.

Even so, in Washington, white water rafting is beginning to rise to the surface of outdoor lovers’ minds like a steelhead to a well-cast fly.

If you are an outdoor professional, or want to be an outdoor professional, there is no simpler means of putting your toes in the water - so to speak - than to sign up for a River Guide Training course. As it happens, here at Orion we have been operating, modifying and enhancing a comprehensive training program for more than four decades.

Hundreds of individuals, from all walks of life, from all over the country, have attended our 15 day river guide training over the span of those years. We’ve had teens and we’ve had sexagenarians. We’ve had firefighters and we’ve had software engineers. We’ve had folks who were home-schooled and folks with their doctorate degrees. We’ve had free spirits and those just looking to be free from the trappings of every day life.

Sign up to learn about river rafting and being a guide if you want to push your personal envelope, or expand your skill set, or you want to spend six months living a ‘dirtbag’ life and getting closer to nature.

Click here to make sure you have a spot in our program. Or give us a call to gain a little more insight into what it all entails.

There’s nothing. Absolutely nothing. Better than messing about in boats.