RATTLESNAKE BAR & VIDEO

I have never seen a river that I could not love," wrote Canadian writer and conservationist Roderick Haig-Brown, "Moving water...has a fascinating vitality. It has power and grace and associations. It has a thousand colors and a thousand shapes, yet it follows laws so definite that the tiniest streamlet is an exact replica of a great river."

When I started kayaking, I dreamed of these river places Haig-Brown called "Water in its loveliest form." 

I always wanted to paddle that clear water passageway between massive ramparts of broken disheveled of once molten rock, now crystallized over millions of years. Where the rock is exposed, lifted, and shattered along the fault lines and large boulders have become their own islands as they raise from the depths of the river. It's rough, It's rugged. It's Rattlesnake Bar.

Rattlesnake Bar is part of the California State Parks Folsom Lake Recreation Area. Located on the north arm of the reservoir, down a long dead-end road after the fork winding past white fences and horse barns towards the entrance of the park.

The lake glistens, flashing through the oaks and willows while driving down the narrow road after entering the park. Suffering another year of drought, it sometimes looked more like Mars's dusty remnants. But it is springtime, and the lake is just over 50% of its total capacity which is just slightly below average for this time of year.

But even at half-full, the water comes nowhere near the end of the ramp. Bring a cart, or plan on a lengthy trek shouldering your kayak down the ramp or along an arduous trail down a steep bank to the lake. The guidebooks said to watch for rattlesnakes, hence the name, but it should have warned you about that thick layer of muck and slimy goo in front of the lake.

The water was a silty brown turned up by waves of speed boats. It resembles a choppy coffee and cream color even past the 5-mph buoy about a mile north of the access. Those, with a need for speed, turn around and head back to the main part of the lake. Those in search of the quiet of the lake, canyon, and river proceed on.

Past Mormon Ravine, the lake widens and turns to the northeast. On the north side, the old Pony Express Trail is now a hiking path along the lake. Further up lake narrows with rugged rocky ledges on both sides. We don't feel the tug of current tell further up the canyon. But it's common through here. The lake behaves more like a river as the water level dictates where the river ends, and the lake begins. There is a sudden change in water temperature and clarity as the cool mountain North Fork of the American River pours into the lake. It was now a refreshing cold and running transparently clear.

I have paddled upstream here before and even portaged through shallow rapids to the river's slow-moving pools.  On this trip, however, the lake covers up those rapids.  At Oregon Bar Rapids, there is no need to go any further on this trip. The rushing water turns us back downstream.

Above Pilot Creek, we found a nice flat rock and water warmed by the sun. We beached our boats and surveyed our river surroundings. Upriver, we could see the foam of whitewater. Downstream, the rugged curve of the canyon suffused the amber light of the late afternoon sun. On warmer days, I've spent a good chunk of time there becoming a kid again by diving off rocks, swimming between dives, and exploring the view of the canyon.

Light and shadows dance across the water as the sun slips behind the horizon on our paddle back to Rattlesnake Bar access. The hills and trees' obscurity are offset by the warm glow of the water. My senses were awakened by the stillness and coolness of the air as we glided silently and almost effortlessly across the placid lake of golden glass.

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