Not all Kings Reside In Castles

The Middle Fork of the Kings Expedition has been called the river trip of a lifetime. I find this to be a vast understatement. For myself MFK Expedition was the trip of five life times. Never in my life have I found a river that makes you question what you are made of and forces you to grow on a daily basis, this place does. Every day you run the full gambit of emotions, you are maxed out both mentally and physically, and filled with a since of peace and accomplishment every night; left only to repeat the process again tomorrow. MFK is not the river of tomorrow, it is the river of right now. It requires your total focus and commitment at every moment. Looked at as a whole the expedition is daunting and pushing the realm of possibility, the only way to survive is to give it your all one step at a time on the hike and one stroke at a time one the river.

I can’t tell you what the river is like. Nobody can. All I can say no amount of preparation can fully prepare you for this task. No amount of video, pictures (esp the blurry photos you will find here), write ups will let you know what you are in store for. All I can do is tell you how it was for me.

The most important thing to bring to MFK is your crew. This is not the place to be cavalier or be the man. You must rely wholly on team work. At some point the river is going to give you all you can handle and break you, and your going have to rely on your friends to pull you through. And at some point you are going to have to do the same for them. Thankfully we had that.

Arriving at the South Lake Trail Head you have no idea of the pain you are about to be in as you hike the 13+ miles over a 12000 ft pass into Leconte Canyon with a 100lb Kayak on your back. Waking before dawn we quickly ate breakfast and hit the trail. Both myself and Chris had trained extremely hard for the hike. We thought we should be at the river in 6 to 7 hours. Little did we know 11 hours later we would still be hiking making it to camp right before dark, only to have Mason arrive roughly an hour later. Both mentally and physically spent, I crashed electing to skip dinner to get some much needed rest.

The Crew: Mason Robinson, Chris McCoy, and Matt Wallace before the Hike


Trail early on if it weren't for the beauty of the area the Hike would be unbearable



Chris Making his way up the Pass

Break Before Bishop Pass

Chris and Mason having Lunch at 12000ft


Waking late in the morning after most of the backpackers had left we took our time eating a hearty breakfast and loading our boats. Soon we were joined by Ranger Susie who went over a few back country rules and offered her words of encouragement. The river started off a little low and manky, but that was just perfect for a couple of southern boys. We paddled several miles and ate lunch above a large slide. Little did we know this slide would pale in comparison with what was to come. After lunch we paddled many of the signature drops. Fully in the moment and enjoying the river we seldom stopped to document our run. (This would become a recurring theme) Paddling until we could paddle no more we stopped for camp above one of the steepest gorges and set of drops on the river. Around a roaring fire we recounted our day enjoying our own company and reveling in the solitude the MFK provides to all who pass through her.

The Brink: Probably the Hardest part of the Hike. Less than 2 miles as the crow flys from the river, but you got a long way to drop.

Preparing to actually put on at Camp 1.

Chris Boofing the 1st significant rapid

Mason on Granite

Early Portage

Chris McCoy Money Drop

Matt Wallace finishing the Money Drop

View From Camp 2

The next day started out stout. The first gorge and rapid set was one of the hardest I had ever ran and lead directly into the largest run able slide I had ever seen. Watching Chris grease a few good lines inspired confidence as we rolled into the huge slide. After a quick scout me and Mason decided to give her. All I can say is the few seconds I was on that slide I have never felt so in control while being so out of control. Once again fully in the moment we took only memories. After a short boogie section we found ourselves at the waterfall gorge. With a quick scout Mason and Chris were feeling a bit drained after the stacked section we had just ran. Being both physically and mentally drained they elected to shoulder their boats around the committing gorge and its stout holes. I had dreamed of being in this place for some time. I had ran this gorge in my mind a thousand times punching the stout holes and plunging off the exit falls. Not having my boys in the water with me scared me. I have been boating with Chris for as long as I can remember. He knew I wanted this. As he lifted his boat and began walking to the trail he said, “ You got it.” Immersing myself fully in the moment, I slipped into the water and committed to soloing the waterfall gorge knowing the two guys above me on the trail had my back. After the portage around the Raw Dog Gorge, we ate lunch. We then set out running several good rapids until Simpson Meadows. On this day we covered the most amount of miles and had probably paddled the hardest sections of whitewater any of us had ever run in our life. Finding a perfect camp spot overlooking a nice little gorge we built a fire and enjoyed our diner while being serenaded by the sweet song of the river.

Mason Exiting one Stacked Section

Mason and Chris Taking abreak below the best Slides we ran

Matt Wallace Feeling Small entering in the Water Fall Gorge

Water Fall Gorge those holes are Sticky



Day three on the river was the biggest surprise. Not really knowing what to expect, I vastly underestimated this section. Not the quality of day 2, but let me say these rapids were stout. After a few hours of mad bombing we came to a definite horizon line. With a quick scout we realized we were at the Big Bad Beaver. We all gladly shouldered our boats around it and then enjoyed a nice lunch. After several more miles we reached Tehipte Valley. We decided to push as far as we could stopping right above the Bottom Nine. Being fully exhausted and a little fearful for what was to come we made camp, and everything was a little quieter this night.

Day 3 on the River Mason in Boogie

The Big Bad Beaver

After a large breakfast we entered the river all a little nervous at what lie ahead. The Bottom Nine is everything it was cracked up to be and more. It was relentless, both the rapids and portages were HARD. If you weren’t boofing large holes and catching crux eddies you were crawling through poison oak and falling over boulders. The bottom nine broke us. We started the day thinking we would easily make it through these nine miles to the confluence, but with the unrelenting nature of this section doubt crept in. I was tired and broken, mentally and physically exhausted with nothing left. I looked at Mason and Chris and could see they were defeated too. I knew we had to finish, not because we were out of food or needed off, we had something we had to prove to ourselves. I thought of the times Chris kept me going on the hike and the times Mason pushed on when he was tired. I knew this was my time to carry us through. So I commenced to bombing down boat scouting what I could and hopping out as quickly as I could to scout what I couldn’t see. I knew they would follow me so I just kept going only stopping long enough to make sure they made it through the rapid. As I watch the ridge line on the left slowly descend I knew we were getting close. Leaving it all on the river, I gave it all I had in the hopes that after this last bend we would reach the confluence. I was right. Never in my life had I been so proud. We had done it Middle Kings in 5 days. After some celebration we shouldered our boats up to Yucca Point where Chas was waiting with the truck.

Tehpite Dome

Mason Seal Launching in the Bottom 9

Chris McCoy Bottom 9

You're Never alone on the MFK: A bear looking on in the Bottom 9
The Confluence

Fully beat down and beaming with pride of what we had accomplished, I couldn’t help but feel a little sadness. It was over. The solitude was gone, no more moments only memories. It was back to the real world, work, cell phones, and everyday life. Every day I relive this trip in my mind, constantly daydreaming of what we did. Vividly remembering what we saw and the rapids we ran better than any blurry photo could ever tell. Just waiting for the next time we can fully immerse ourselves on a river.

I can tell you running the Middle Kings won’t make you a bad ass, cool, or the next big thing; but it will force you to grow. It will make you reach down deep and do things you never thought you could. It forges friendships that are thicker than water. You walk away with a new appreciation for truly wild places. You will work harder than you ever have and be given memories that will last longer than a life time. After the poison oak fades, the blisters heals, and the stiffness is gone; you’ll think about doing it again. Knowing deep down you definitely will do it again.