MEDFORD, Ore. (AP) — Waking in a sleeping bag to a bone-drenching rain on the fifth day of a nine-day raft trip down the Rogue River, Sam Jackson and his two childhood pals wondered whether this adventure would match what it looked like on paper.

For 91 miles, the rapids had been dicey because the water was low, and Jackson and partners Peter White-Hoppe and Logan McConnell were short of precious provisions.

But with the unyielding rain and so many miles to go that day, it all seemed — for a moment — so ridiculous that they had to laugh.

"That was one of the hardest parts, waking up when it was raining all night thinking, 'Gawd, we got to go 22 miles in this?'" said Jackson, 25, of Los Angeles. "We were so cold. That was the worst."

"Oh, and at one point we ran out of beer," he said. "A little adversity doesn't hurt."

Diversity was part of the experience for the three former Medford residents, as it will be for future expeditions completing what is destined to become a new entry on Northwest river-runners' bucket list — paddling the Rogue from Lost Creek Dam northeast of Medford 157 miles to the sea.

With the Rogue now running freely past what was Savage Rapids Dam for the first time in 88 years, the float from the Cole Rivers Hatchery boat ramp near Lost Creek to the Pacific can be done with only a single portage around Gold Ray Dam near Gold Hill.

It's a journey where the whole is greater than the sum of its parts.

"We've all floated almost all of the sections at one time or another, but never the whole Rogue at one time," says White-Hoppe, 25, of Corvallis. "It was a great way to see the river with that change in perspective."

And that perspective could grow even wider if Gold Ray Dam is removed as proposed by the end of 2010.

For years, rafters entering the Bureau of Land Management's visitor center at Rand — just above the Rogue's Wild and Scenic section — have inquired about the possibility of running the entire Rogue, says Chris Dent, the BLM's former river manager there.

"People always asked about it, but people really didn't do it," Dent says. "Now, with one dam out and one to go, why not?"

That was the idea of the trip for Jackson, McConnell and White-Hoppe, who grew up together in Medford and regularly rafted sections of the Rogue as kids.

They since have gone separate ways. McConnell, 26, of Portland, and White-Hoppe work in different cities for a company that does mapping for watershed restoration projects.

Jackson just finished law school at the University of Southern California and is ready to join a law firm in December.

The trio wanted to pull off one more trip before serious adulthood overtook them.

For years, they had discussed a hatchery-to-the-sea excursion. After reading accounts of the first boaters to negotiate the new Savage Rapids Oct. 9, they quickly sketched out their trip.

"We said, 'Is there any reason we can't do this?'" Jackson said.

They packed White-Hoppe's 14-foot raft and launched from the hatchery ramp Oct. 22, floating the first 24 miles before a relatively cushy first night sleeping under the stars in a friend's riverside backyard.

"That was great — until the lawn sprinklers turned on," Jackson said.

They floated down to a private ramp just upstream of Gold Ray Dam, where White-Hoppe's mother, Alice, shuttled the raft and the group to a public ramp downstream of the dam.

Next, negotiating Powerhouse Rapids was tough for a big boat at such low river flows, Jackson says.

They worked their way through Grants Pass, Merlin and Galice, restocking supplies occasionally before heading into the Wild and Scenic stretch. Then the rain hit.

For White-Hoppe, rowing from the oar seat kept him relatively warm, but the upfront position for McConnell and Jackson was not quite as aerobic.

"We'd paddle just to stay warm," Jackson says.

The morning of that wet fifth day, in a rustic shelter at Battle Bar, proved to be the trip's nadir.

"We knew at some point in the trip that we'd have the chance for bad weather," McConnell says. "We were definitely chilled to the bone at that point."

After a one-day rest they continued, eventually leaving the Wild and Scenic Section and its troublesome rapids behind.

When they reached the outpost of Agness with just two days and 27 miles to go, the trio happened on an elderly woman who warned them of long periods of rowing through slow water against unforgiving upstream winds.

"She was adamant that we were crazy," Jackson said. "She said, 'You'll be miserable.' We tried to explain to her that that's part of the point."

On the last morning, they awoke to a sunrise on a gravel bar near Lobster Creek.

The normal sea breeze seemed to ebb for the group as they rowed and paddled through the fog until they spied the Highway 101 bridge at the river's mouth.

"Saying you're going to do it is one thing, but doing it is another," McConnell said. "You know there would be some tough times. You know there would be obstacles.

"Then, when you get to the end, and you know you've done it, it's like ... yeah," he said. "That's epic."

The group could write a sequel to their Rogue saga if the last impediment to a free float to the sea disappears in 2010.

"It'll be interesting if we could get organized again after Gold Ray Dam comes out," Jackson says. "That would be ideal."

Copyright 2009 The Associated Press.