Arrow-right Camera
The Spokesman-Review Newspaper
Spokane, Washington  Est. May 19, 1883

Finessing the flip-flop: Rafters get a thrill, while salmon and irrigators get more water

A group of rafters float down the Tieton River on Sept. 14, 2018 betweem Rimrock and Naches, Wash. (Oliver Hamlin / Yakima Herald-Republic)
By Luke Thompson Yakima Herald-Republic

YAKIMA, Wash. – Sitting on the edge of a large, inflatable raft while paddling down a fast, bumpy river full of logs and large rocks might look like a precarious proposition.

The Tieton River’s narrow passageways to go with Class III rapids add to the challenge as water rushes at 1,900 cubic feet per second on a course featuring 58 feet of vertical drop per mile. It’s an exhilarating, wet, wild ride that lasts about three hours and induces plenty of smiling, laughing and yelling, and generally is capped off by entertaining pictures of the adventure.

It all adds up to more than enough thrills to encourage thousands of people every September to pay upward of $70, and in some cases more than $100, to put themselves at the mercy of the river. At least, that’s how it might look to the untrained eye.

In reality, of course, the experienced guides from virtually all of Washington’s whitewater rafting companies know what it takes to tame the mighty Tieton during the annual “flip-flop” water operations on Rimrock and the Cle Elum reservoirs. The change sends water roaring down from Rimrock Reservoir for a limited time, much to the delight of rafters.

The outfitters carefully plan the trips. The guides begin setting up for rapids long before their passengers begin bracing themselves, and they control everything down to who receives the brunt of the biggest splashes.

“If I don’t get you wet, I feel like I’ve failed,” Osprey Rafting Co. guide Brandon McLain said during a trip Friday after ensuring a large wave drenched one of his raft’s drier riders.

He adjusts each experience depending on customers’ abilities and willingness to take on obstacles such as High Noon, the most challenging rapids on the 12-mile trip down the river. McLain estimates about 40 percent of groups elect to go around the boulders creating the notorious currents capable of sucking in and flipping rafts. He’ll allow the most knowledgeable crews to intentionally get sucked in and let the raft fill up before back-paddling out.

The guides sitting in the back can steer the raft through the rapids with little to no help, so the others – typically five or six people for Osprey tours- can enjoy the ride whether their frequent paddling is useful or not. That’s why McLain, like most guides, focuses on positive reinforcement, which makes his rare stern instructions all the more effective.

There’s still little time to truly relax, unlike on trips down other Washington rivers such as the Wenatchee or the Skykomish, the state’s most difficult river. The Tieton’s rapids always seem to be visible or at least right around the bend, providing just a few moments of smooth water to re-adjust or lock in any loose feet.

Learning how to secure shoes by tucking them snugly into the raft is the first and perhaps most important part of the pretrip safety lesson. It also includes tips such as avoiding the temptation to stand up in the shallow river and risk foot entrapment, as well as how to best swim to safety or try to rescue others.

Osprey river manager Kregg McGlauflin said it’s rare for anyone to fall into the water he estimated to be somewhere around 60 degrees. But if it happens, at least one and sometimes two other boats are always just ahead or behind to offer assistance.

Like every other company stationed along U.S. Highway 12, Osprey is focused exclusively on the Tieton during the September flip-flop. During the flip-flop, water managers reduce the flow in the upper Yakima, Cle Elum and Bumping rivers while increasing flow in the Tieton and Naches rivers. The significant move helps salmon while stabilizing irrigation.

Creating one of the state’s top whitewater rivers for about a month turns out to be a profitable bonus.

“It’s kind of the last route for us,” McGlauflin said. “This is a nonstop Class III river.”