River-kayaking is some of my family’s favorite. Why wear yourself out paddling when the current can do all the work? There’s a new view around each bend of the river and the occasional burst of excitement whenever you encounter a rapid.
The logistics of a river trip can be difficult to arrange, so we don’t often get to go. This year, however, we arranged for my dad to ferry me, Rachel, and our two small children, Maya and Leon, for a trip down the lower Skagit River in western Washington. We launched at Rockport in the foothills of the Cascade Mountains and took out at Sedro-Woolley in the lowlands.
Route map. Forty-three miles (69 km) in four days, a new speed record for the Skagit River.
The current was brisk but not uncomfortably so. For the most part, we moved between two and three knots. Even in our giant, two-seater folding kayaks, Rachel and I were easily able to manage the occasional riffles.
The scenery evolved as the river descended. At the launch point in Rockport, we were surrounded by the Cascades. Whenever the view opened up, we could see snow-capped peaks around us, including the volcano Mount Baker, one of Washington’s most beautiful. The river bars in this upper portion were mostly cobble, with only a few scattered sandy patches suitable for camping. Farther downriver, the mountains flattened out, and sand became more prevalent onshore. Down around Sedro-Woolley, the bars were more than half sand, making for easy camping and hiking.
The current decelerated somewhat as the river left the mountains, but even at Sedro-Woolley it was moving fast enough that paddling upstream was a practical impossibility. At the takeout, Rachel nearly got carried away by the current while waiting for a motorboat to clear the ramp!
There were any number of riffles along the river, both in the upper and lower reaches. The only riffle of significance was a 300-meter, class II feature immediately upstream of the Dalles Bridge outside the town of Concrete. We considered scouting this feature beforehand or even lining the boats along the sandbars, but in the end, we simply dove into the main channel and were whisked through without jeopardy and with only a partial soaking.
Family launching kayaks at Rockport. This was Maya and Leon’s first time on a river trip, and Rachel’s first time since a long-ago trip down the lower Columbia River.
Maya kayaking Skagit River. One of the advantages of large, open-cockpit folders is that there’s plenty of room in the boat for kids to play with their toys.
Rachel and Leon kayaking Skagit River. Whenever we hit bumps in the water, Leon would repeat, “Too scary! Too scary!” but he also said he loved to go fast.
Skagit Valley scenery. In the afternoons, a brisk anabatic wind would blow upstream, slowing our progress but alleviating the summer heat.
Rachel kayaking beneath Mount Baker. The volcano’s last explosive eruption occurred in 1843, but it is still active and will one day erupt again.
Leon and Rachel loading kayak outside Van Halen. The ownership of riverside sandbars can sometimes be ambiguous, but in general, they are owned by the state and managed by DNR.
Maya loading kayak outside Van Halen. Maya always rode in the large green boat, Leon in the smaller black boat, and Rachel and I took turns paddling each boat.
Leon playing with sticks in kayak. Each kid amassed an increasingly impressive collection of sticks and rocks throughout the trip.
It was amazing how much cooler it was on the water than on land. Ashore, even twenty meters from the river, it was at least fifteen degrees (8° C) hotter than it was on the river. I think the difference was probably due to the sun heating the cobbles and the wind’s tendency to follow the course of the river precisely.
Despite the heat, shore time was the best time. Especially downriver where sand was more prevalent, the islands and river bars where we camped were essentially giant playgrounds for the kids. They made bouncy teeter-totters out of fallen logs and used the beaches as the world’s largest sandboxes. At one point, Leon buried one of his toy monster trucks so deeply in the sand we had to launch an all-hands search of the island to recover it. The kids often wandered far out of sight, wending among the willows and shrubs that covered the islands, but they always seemed to know their way back to the tent.
We survived the trip with only minor injuries. I was stung by a bee, Rachel was bitten by a spider, and Maya got a nasty scrape on her shin from a sharp piece of driftwood. Leon came through unscathed, except for the seemingly unlimited pairs of socks he managed to soak while wading in his rubber boots.
Maya on banks of Skagit River. We took off the water every hour or two to give the kids an opportunity to stretch their legs and play ashore.
Leon exiting the tent. Our six-person tent was large enough to serve not only as a shelter but also as a playground.
Rachel and Maya share a laugh. When the wind picked up, it would cool down enough that the kids wanted their coats.
Rachel peering through logjam. The number and size of driftwood logs increased farther downstream.
Family having dinner on beach. Near the end of the trip, our fuel and water supplies ran low, but a friendly homeowner let us refill our water jugs.
Leon in tent. It would have been nice to leave off the rainfly, but repeated overnight drizzle made that impossible.
Leon “fishing” the Skagit River. There were many actual fishermen on the river in motorboats, taking advantage of the recently opened sockeye season.
Leon and his toy monster trucks. The one truck is the “good guy,” the other truck is the “bad guy.”
Maya carrying her stuffed dog, Sedda. Sedda is one the principal members of Maya’s dog pack, who come with us on every overnight trip.
The most remarkable wildlife we saw was a lone female common merganser escorting twenty-six chicks. This seemed like an astonishing number of babies for one mother, but we learned after the trip that common mergansers often amalgamate their broods. The babies can feed themselves with ease immediately after leaving the nest, but they still like to remain in the company of adult females for a few weeks. Occasionally, several broods will amalgamate behind a single female to form a creche of up to forty young, and this is undoubtedly the behavior we observed.
Spotted sandpipers were nesting all along the river. One sandpiper burst out of a sandy hillock right next to Maya’s head, startling her. The next morning, I walked past the same spot and it burst out next to mine. I poked around in the bushes, trying to find its nest, but it was too well hidden.
Other good birds included many western tanagers, with their striking yellow bodies and red heads, as well as a personal favorite of ours, the black-headed grosbeak. I also spent a long morning chasing down willow flycatchers, which were calling all around me but which I could hardly glimpse amid the thick shrubbery. Finally, one emerged into the open and I got a picture.
On the mammal front, each of our campsites was full of the tracks of elk and mule deer (commonly called black-tailed deer in these parts). We hoped to see an elk but had to settle for only a few glimpses of deer. One afternoon, while walking barefoot and silently through the forest, I got the drop on a herd of deer and approached them napping with their heads down, a rare feat for a clumsy, noisy human.
Besides ungulates, Maya spotted a mouse one morning, although we couldn’t tell what species. Rachel in her kayak provoked some kind of splashing threat display by an aquatic mammal, although again we couldn’t tell what kind. Given its behavior, it was likely a beaver, but we don’t know for sure.
Common merganser with amalgamated brood. The mama could never feed this many chicks herself, but luckily for her, they feed themselves.
Spotted sandpiper, Skagit River. This species bobs its tail up and down as it forages, lending it a jaunty air.
Cedar waxwing. Whole flocks of this species lined the river, fly-catching for insects.
Northern rough-winged swallows on branch. On this trip, we saw every swallow species in Washington except the purple martin.
Northern rough-winged swallow burrows, banks of the Skagit River outside Minkler. There were also bank swallows in the immediate vicinity, so it is exciting to imagine that both species might be nesting here.
Elk tracks, banks of the Skagit River. The elk tracks were more numerous than the deer tracks, but we only saw deer.
Mule deer outside Minkler. When I first spotted this individual, all I could see above the grass was its ears, twitching this way and that.
Western toad, Skagit River. This was our first-ever encounter with this species.
Western tanager. Most of the individuals we saw were males, with their flaming red heads.
Black-headed grosbeak. This male stands proudly in his distinctive orange and black plumage.
Willow flycatcher. This was the only species of flycatcher I saw on the trip, although I did hear a few western wood-peewees calling.
It wouldn’t be a kayaking trip without a couple of near-disasters. The most alarming occurred on the last day, when both of our kayaks were swept onto a submerged log at an elbow in the river. We saw the obstruction from a fair distance, but the river bent so sharply the current carried us inexorably onto it. Fortunately, we slid harmlessly over the top.
At our last campsite, the afternoon wind was so strong it blew the tent away, even though we had put down nine stakes. I had to scramble barefoot over the cobbles to catch it before it went into the river. Fortunately, the tent kept snagging on bushes as it blew along, handicapping its progress just enough to allow me to catch up.
Rachel and Maya beneath Dalles Bridge outside Concrete. Rachel is celebrating our successful passage of the only class II water of the trip.
Rachel and Maya kayaking Skagit River. Small riffles like this one were present throughout the length of the river.
Maya on a sandy beach, Skagit River. Each campsite was more beautiful and more fun than the last.
Leon playing with boat pump. He pumped until it completely clogged with mud.
Maya and Leon playing in sand. Immediately upon landing, the kids would throw themselves into games on the sand.
Alex and Leon kayaking Skagit River. I was grateful for a hat on these sunny days, but Leon refused to wear one.
Rachel paddling downriver. Maya sprawled out with her feet on deck for a nap.
More aggressive paddlers could have done this route in under a day. We took four. I’m satisfied our way was the right one, as the kids made full use of every minute of every day. Between the games, the hikes, the meals, and the endless stories, there was barely enough time to do everything.
Rachel and I had been talking about kayaking the Skagit River for years. We’re so happy to have finally done it. Before the trip was even over, we agreed to make it an annual family tradition.
—Alex Sidles