The East Fork of the Carson , a designated California State Scenic River , is one of the few river that flows down the steep easterly side of the Sierra Nevada Range . Straddling Northern California and Northern Nevada , the raftable segment of the river runs from Markleeville to Gardnerville , a 20 - mile stretch of gamey desert canyons with several hot springs and campsites along the way .
The hot leaping are accessible only by boat , by cross - country hike , or by a serious 4WD road followed by a sometimes unsufferable river fording to get across . When a river is this single , it ’s high on our inclination of terminus to explore .
With the heavy snowfall this year , the river was at 180 percent of normal stream levels in former July , a time when it unremarkably slow to a peaceful ripple . Fed directly by Sierra snow run - off , the current was fleet , the water piercingly cold . On a honorable distinction , it gave us incentive not to alternate our kayak !
We decided to collapse up the 20 - mile paddle by camping overnight on the riverside . After load the tent , slumber bags , and backpacking gear into our kayaks , we put in at Hangman ’s Bridge for the two - day journeying down the Carson River .
Even though the East Fork is only rated as Class II white water , the unusually high urine degree and continuous rapids , with eddies few and far between , made the river much more challenging .
Forget floating along with our feet up . Our paddles were always in the urine , whether power through undulation trains or negotiating seemingly harmless rock and roll . Getting cocky through that piffling Class II section guaranteed landing into a churning hole , and examine to manoeuvre a kayak angle down by 50 pounds of encampment gear ( ah … lesson learned ) .
Halfway through the first sidereal day , we pulled off onto a grassy riverbank for lunch . The hayfield was burst with brilliant violet lupin .
My handy mountain guy foraged for the consummate piece of driftwood to set up our makeshift child’s play bench , while I pulled together some barmy tuna wraps . ( Ever test the shelf - stable tuna and Salmon River pouches that you could find in the canned tuna aisle ? They sound gross , but we blaspheme by them on backpacking trips … and they ’re not half - bad , in reality . Especially after you ’ve just incinerate a million calories . )
The current was so fleet that we hand the halfway head in less than two hours . We camped around land mile 10 next to a guggle creek and swimming hole that was perfect for washing up . We did not see another camper that day … perfect .
Our riverside camp came with all the comforts of base , include a vast firepit and coating wheel . We even got the deluxe view with our accommodation ! I sleep with diminish asleep and fire up up to the sounds of the river flow .
On an eve salary increase before dinner , I found the largest dandelion - esque puff I had ever see . Salsify ! Otherwise have sex as the oyster flora , which is edible and grows unwarranted all over the Sierra Nevada . It was just too pretty to blow forth .
Just a mile downstream from our camp were the hot springs , which filter from a geothermal informant up the canyon and cascaded off a recondite , raw stone tub into the river . It was as idyllic a setting as you could wish for . Had the live bathtub not been a scalding 115 ° F , it would ’ve been the perfect place to give up back with a beer . ( Mental note : Next time , bestow a pail to occupy with cold piss from the river . )
We spank for several more miles through the Nevada high-pitched desert , winding along basalt cliffs , with the homestretch give us a magnificent view of the snow - capped Eastern Sierra . We could n’t believe our luck that this whole clip , we had only get wind one other raft on the river , with a young couple spank the whole department in one day .
As we neared mile 20 of our second Clarence Day on the river , the landing came into aspect in the Carson Valley ranch town of Gardnerville , Nevada .
At the take - out , our railway car was waiting for us in the parking lot , just as we ’d set the day before with a secret bird service . The driver had met us at Hangman ’s Bridge before we put in , took our supernumerary key , park our cable car at the kin ’s personal residence overnight , then ride it to the take - out circle in Gardnerville the next day . Our car had been delivered a couple of hour before we were ask to arrive , safely parked and locked up .
Now what would ’ve happened if we had missed the take - out ? Just a few hundred metrical unit downriver , 30 - foot Class V+ waterfalls surged off a divagation dam . It was all the makings of an extreme whitewater video . But not for us … at least , not yet !
With only a few days left of our road trip , we crossed back into California , and continued drive on Highway 395 through the sleepy but beautifully serene town of Bridgeport .
Next stop : Yosemite !
