Rafting with Kumsheen
“We’re coming up to the Jaws of Death,” Sam yells with a smile. She works the tiller to steer us into a face full of the Thompson River.
Upstream from the Jaws of Death are the Tunnels of Doom; named after a former Kumsheen guide, his lady love, and the washing machine repairman with whom she later ran off. Other rapids along the Thompson carry colourful monikers such as Garburetor, Green Monster, Witches’ Cauldron, and Mother-in-Law.
Power-rafting the Thompson River (photo: Kumsheen Rafting Resort)
This is not just a journey down a beautiful river, but a journey through the strange and storied history of British Columbia itself. You will pass abandoned telegraph poles, prospecting sites, and a handmade stone bridge still used by the Canadian Pacific Railroad.
Kumsheen Rafting Resort pioneered this river as a commercial guiding outfit, and its guides know the history of the area as well as they know the oddball stories of the sport they love.
Sam Gandossi is living the dream, working as a rafting guide: “This is my seventh season. I grew up in Vancouver, then started working here seasonally for my first few years. I’ve been living here full-time for about four years.”
Today, she’s ferrying me down the river; I’m joined by an Swiss hitchhiker; as well as an engineer, teacher, and poker player from England. The Thompson River divides the Cascades from the Coastal Range, two very different, very beautiful mountain ecosystems.
... but also look where you're going (photo: Kumsheen Rafting Resort)
“Kumsheen” means “meeting of rivers” in the Nlaka'pamux language, and is named for the confluence of the Thompson and Fraser Rivers: the two highest-volume commercially-rafted rivers in the world at this time of year. (Before you ask, rounding out the top three is the White Nile.)
A paddle-raft would get pulverized by the massive hydraulic forces at work as water rushes through tight gorges and over massive boulders: the only way to safely get down the Thompson in early June is by power rafting, and Kumsheen Rafting Resort has built its own fleet of super-rafts; they’re held afloat by military-grade pontoons that can bear the weight of a tank.
Bernie Fandrich founded Kumsheen in 1973, and it’s become a family affair.
His son Andrew has worked here “since birth. I had a few different roles around here.” For the last 12 years, Andrew has worked as a guide, and has recently started handling the marketing as well.
Sam Gandossi and Andrew Fandrich: Kumsheen rafting guides (photos: Jordan Yerman)
Kumsheen’s resort is an exercise in rustic comfort: if you don’t bring your own tent or RV, you can bed down in a teepee or canvas-and-wood cabin.
I highly recommend using one of the teepees that stand in a small clutch, overlooking the river. Across the narrow valley, a massive cliff face stares back at you.
Kumsheen Rafting Resort teepees at dusk (photo: Jordan Yerman)
The near-silence is punctuated by the occasional passing train: after all, you’re overlooking one of Canada’s major lifelines to the coast.
The drive from Vancouver to Lytton is pretty easy: only three hours, give or take a few minutes, if you manage to beat rush hour. Once I lost CBC Radio 2, I popped in a Stones CD, and turned into the Kumsheen welcome area shortly after Mick and Keef were finished. Once you get past suburbia and approach Hope, the scenery is gorgeous: dramatic mountains, lush trees and glimpses of rivers and lakes as the highway snakes north towards Cache Creek.
The drive features my favorite aspect of roadside North-Americana: the signage. Designers in Vancouver will fuss for days on end over different weights of Helvetica, while folks in the interior throw up evocative signs without even thinking about it.
Lytton itself takes its name from Edward Bulwer-Lytton, who has the dubious distinction of having written what is considered the worst opening sentence in the English language: “It was a dark and stormy night.” Lytton the writer’s legacy has been debated ever since; Lytton the town has evolved from gold rush camp to international whitewater rafting destination.
Early the next morning, I drove back south, heading west on BC7 before reaching Hope. The drive is gorgeous: mountains loom over the trees, which lean in on the twisty road.
Trans-Canada Highway (photo: Jordan Yerman)
Harrison Hot Springs
The hot, hot waters of Waum Chuck were believed by the Sts'Ailes First Nation to have restorative powers. I reckon they were right. What is now Harrison Hot Springs began life as St. Alice’s Well, and was accessible from the nearby railway line. Today, Harrison Hot Springs welcomes hikers, swimmers, spa-soakers, boaters, jet-skiers, dog-walkers and even cat-walkers. Wait, what?
Bengal cat at Harrison Lake (photo: Jordan Yerman)
Yeah, that’s Dillinger. We crossed paths not far from Harrison Hot Springs Spa and Resort, where I’d later enjoy a soothing soak in a warm pool.
Harrison itself is a small lakeside town, with lots of beachfront hotels.
Dining options are surprisingly varied: from burger shack to Japanese to Bavarian.
Aside from Harrison Hot Springs Resort and Spa, visitors can sample the sulphuric spring water at the public pool. Should you tire of the lake and the springs, the hiking in Harrison is beautiful and easily accessible. If you’ve got kids, check out the Spirit Trail, just south of the main town. Local artist Ernie Eaves has hung numerous ceramic masks along the trail for you to discover.
Masks along the Spirit Trail (photos: Jordan Yerman)
Robert Reyerse, Executive Director of Tourism Harrison, told me, “A couple of them got knocked down during the winter, but [Eaves] hung around 50 of them.” I counted 39; can you spot more? Looking for these hidden works of art –– some spooky, some silly, some serene –– is a great way to break the habit of looking at your feet when you hike, and really start enjoying the scenery. Listen to that rustle in the bushes: is it bird, beast ... or spirit?
As day turns to dusk, Harrison gets very quiet. The view of the lake can be magical.
Harrison Lake at dusk (photo: Jordan Yerman)
The following morning, I thought it best not to waste a sixth-floor view of the lake:
Harrison Lake in the morning (photo: Jordan Yerman)
On the way home, I decided to take the Lougheed Highway, which I'd never driven before. No sense in rushing back into the world of research, writing, and deadlines: I made a few stops on the way from Harrison Hot Springs to Vancouver.
The Circle Farm Tour is a self-guided excursion through Agassiz and Harrison Mills, where you and your family can check out the local agricultural businesses around Harrison and Agassiz. I stopped by The Farm House, an award-winning artisan cheesemaking ranch. Visitors can wander freely around the grounds: I met one of the actual cheesemakers. Talk about friendly locals.
Goat at The Farm House (photo: Jordan Yerman)
After stopping by Canadian Hazelnut for a few fistfuls of nuts, I paused to gaze out upon the orchards of hazelnut trees soaking up the sun, watched over by the mountains.
The drive from Agassiz through Harrison Mills, Maple Ridge, and Pitt Meadows took just over an hour. Having only driven east of Vancouver to go skiing, I was thrilled to discover such wonderful adventure, scenery, people, cats, and goats; all within three hours' drive of home.