Five Days on the Rogue River: White Water, Wine, and One Wreck

Launch Day: Five rafts and two kayaks were ready to launch for our five-day adventure on the mighty Rogue River. All but two of us had made this trip many times before, but no matter how many river miles you have under your belt, the Rogue always seems to have a few surprises waiting.

Our launch on September 6, 2026

The water is so calm in the beginning, yet this stretch of the river is known for its white water. Don't worry, we will soon find some rapids. 

Trip Photos: There are far too many stories from five days on the Rogue to tell them all, so this time I’m going to let the pictures do most of the talking.

Amazing Rocks

Wonderful Vegetation, Notice the Madrone's Red Bark as it Peels

Avoid this One Small Rock, You Could Get Stuck!

Sheer Beauty!

Of Course the Evenings of Food and Talk

Every day brought another chance to encounter the wildlife of the river. Most of our sightings were water creatures and birds, but on our luckiest days we spotted deer—and even one bear.

And now to the wreck. Even the most seasoned rowers can get into trouble on a whitewater river like the Rogue. In this case, however, the raft that became wedged between two rocks was being rowed by someone making the trip for the first time. With the river’s strong current, it only takes a few seconds for things to go wrong—and suddenly you can find yourself in a situation like this.

Two Strong, Intelligent Men—Stuck!

At this spot, the current was far too fast for the other rafts to pull over and help, so everyone moved downstream and found places to wait below the rapid. Some of us stayed with our rafts, tied off to rocks or holding in eddies, while three men scrambled back upstream over some pretty treacherous rocks to figure out how to free the stranded raft.

Their first attempt to get a rope from the bank to the rocky island failed. It was simply too far. Then Mike came up with a different idea: his salmon fishing rod. After about ten tries, he finally managed to cast the line onto the rocks. That small success made it possible to send heavier ropes and pulleys across the river to the stranded men.

Somewhere between two and three hours later, the raft finally popped free from the crevice. The two men jumped into the water and were soon reunited with their boat. Miraculously, no one was hurt and nothing was lost. Everything on the raft had been so well secured that it all stayed put.

Later we learned that the low water level had caused similar problems before our trip. Another raft had become stuck in the very same place just the week before—and, more recently, yet another group ran into trouble there.

And on we went: The rest of the trip was relatively uneventful—especially compared to the “big raft jam.” Even some of the rapids considered the most challenging were rowed through like pros.

On the last day of the trip, I kept watching for a special tree. For nearly 30 years of trips down the Rogue, we have looked for this little tree growing all alone on a large rock, its roots reaching down over the boulder in search of whatever nourishment it can find.

We call it the Haiku Tree. The name comes from a long-running family joke after someone once mistakenly said “haiku” instead of “bonsai.” The name stuck.

It is always our final landmark, the one that tells us the takeout is only minutes away. Somehow it seemed fitting that this tree should have the last word in the story of our September 2026 Rogue River adventure.

Our Haiku Tree