Only seconds into my first packrafting trip, the boat flipped.

The 50-degree water of the Madison River triggered an instant injection of adrenaline into my bloodstream. Gasping for air after popping above water, I side-stroked toward the shore, my loaded, upside-down raft and kayak paddle in tow.

Unfortunately, I'd forgotten to tighten the neck gaiter on my spray jacket, and water had poured in. As I stood up, my arms resembled a bodybuilder's as the rubber gaskets at the jacket's wrists kept the water from exiting. Combined with my red helmet and bright-yellow lifejacket, I resembled an odd comic strip superhero - Agua Man? SÃ-.

Was this rapid baptism a bad omen for a three-day trip? Or was I just getting the bad part over with early? I wondered.

Eight is enough

The three-day trip began last Thursday along the edge of the Lee Metcalf Wilderness Area, continuing through Beartrap Canyon and on to Headwaters State Park, downstream from Three Forks. Ryan Jordan of Backpacking Light in Bozeman had allowed me to tag along on a float he was taking with six others.

Jordan had the most paddling experience of all the boaters, followed by Carol Crooker and Scott Christy. The rest of us, although we'd paddled other craft, were relative newbies to the sport.

The entire crew was outfitted with Alpacka rafts, tiny one-person watercraft that look as if they would be more at home in a pool or bathtub than near the stretches of thunderous whitewater we would encounter. Because this was a multiday trip, at the front of each raft the rower had tightly lashed a waterproof backpack containing all of his or her clothes, food and camping gear.

Between the eight of us, we had a variety of ways to handle the frigid water - wet suits and dry suits, spray jackets and water-wicking, quick-drying specialty fabrics. Luckily, the weather took a turn for the better and we ended up being as concerned about heat stroke as hypothermia as temperatures soared into the 80s - typical May days in Montana, right?

Longtime fantasy

I have coveted an Alpacka raft since they first came onto the scene seven years ago in Alaska. Now manufactured by hand in Colorado, the small and durable lightweight rafts are the ideal craft for my long-dreamed-about wilderness hike into the South Fork of the Flathead River for a float out.

But the raft's price tag has kept me from doing anything more than dream. The cheapest one, and also the newest in the line, is the small Scout model that costs $625. Yet the Scout weighs only 3 pounds, 3 ounces. The larger Fjord Explorer (39 inches wide and 53 inches long) costs $1,290 - touted for hunters looking to haul moose quarters out of the backwoods -and weighs in at a scant 5 pounds, 8 ounces.

There are seven boat styles, ranging from the 64-inch long Scout (33 inches wide) to the 86-inch long Double Duck (37 inches wide).

Most of the boats have 12-inch tubes, except for the Scout, which has a 10-inch tube. The tubes are made of urethane-coated nylon with a scratch-resistant exterior. The floors are made of urethane-coated ballistic nylon. One to three inflatable seat chambers keep your rump from dragging over the rocks.

The boats' single air chambers are inflated with an open-ended nylon bag that's filled with air then squeezed in. Smaller blow valves allow the rower to inflate the boat tightly with a little lung power.

Depending on the size of the boat and rower, the rafts are touted as handling an additional 60 pounds in gear with no loss in handling ability. Spray skirts can be built in for an additional $200 to keep much of the water out and to increase warmth.

The boats were built specifically for backwoods excursions that may require you to portage around difficult or dangerous sections of water - or simply to cross water on an outdoor excursion. Unlike a canoe or kayak that has to be carried aloft, the Alpacka can be deflated, rolled up and loaded on a pack, easily carried by one person. Two- and four-piece kayak paddles can be broken down to also load on a pack.

Getting hooked

Crooker said she bought her raft about three years ago to fulfill a lifelong Tom Sawyer fantasy. Plus, she said, being on the water is really cool.

The first trip Crooker took the packraft on with friends in full-size rafts, they offered to carry her gear.

"They were like, 'Are you kidding me?' " she said.

But she persevered and rode out the rapids on gnarly sections of the Green River's Desolation Canyon, a midget boater tossed among mammoth waves.

In his Alpacka rafts, Jordan has run small wilderness creeks and packed out a quartered elk. He got started in the sport in 1988 by buying a 6½-pound Vietnam-era Army surplus packraft and battling whitewater and debris on Washington rivers.

"Back then it was kind of a death-defying activity," he said. "The rafts weren't real good, and there was a lot of wood."

Christy, who had recently purchased the longer Denali Llama raft, made the plunge because of the attraction of extended wilderness excursions. He said the small boats have one drawback.

"I've just resigned myself to the fact that you're going to get wet," he said. "You can do a lot in these boats, but you're going to take on water."

Dangerous playground

Jordan didn't try to sugarcoat the dangers of playing in the water, especially during spring runoff. The Madison River was barreling over the Ennis powerhouse dam at 4,000 cubic feet per second. In the four miles of the upper Beartrap Canyon, three large rapids roil the water.

"It gets ugly in there," Jordan cautioned. "There are sinkholes at the bottom of all three rapids, and they kill people."

To prepare, we jumped into Ennis Lake and practiced exiting the boats after flipping them and then re-entering them from the water. We stopped along the drive into the canyon and discussed water features such as waves, holes and hidden boulders. Then we practiced paddling across the river and maneuvering around boulders with different paddle strokes.

Once we were fairly confident of our skills, we launched into the Madison near the power plant, and I quickly dumped after encountering my first swift eddy line. An eddy line is where the water moves back upstream, sometimes as fast as the water moving down. The line where the two currents meet is like a sharp change in direction. The idea is to hit it hard and fast, paddling the whole time. I thought I could just ease over, and I did, except "over" meant being upside down.

As Christy said, "If there's anything you're going to do, speed is helpful in a packraft."

He also noted that because the packrafts are so small and maneuverable, sometimes the small boats can sneak around larger waves that a full-size raft is forced to run.

"Sometimes a Class III for a packraft is really easy," he said, referring to the whitewater rating system for rapids. "You're away from the carnage, dodging rocks."

But the reverse can also be true. A large wave train may be easy for a raft to power over, but in a packraft the rower is tossed around like a toy. The most common way to flip in a packraft is for the rower to rear over backward. So in attacking waves, rowers are encouraged to keep their upper body hunched forward.

"It's fun to talk about which line to take, but once you're in the water, it's combat-style," Christy said.

Plotting

In the end, my initial baptism turned out to be my only one on the three-day trip. We wisely hiked around the worst three rapids in Beartrap Canyon, making good use of the packability of the Alpacka rafts, before re-entering the river at Beartrap Creek for the rest of the float.

The trip, however, did nothing to quench my desire for one of the mini rafts. I schemed on the way downstream. Maybe if I bought my wife one for Christmas and said, "Oh look honey, Santa brought me one, too!" do you think she'd catch on?

Contact Brett French at french@billingsgazette.com or at 657-1387.

CLICK HERE to learn more about Alpacka Rafts

To learn more

Roman Dial's book "Packrafting! An Introduction & How-To Guide," can be ordered from Backpacking Light for $24.95 plus shipping. Backpacking Light is also offering classes this summer on Montana rivers. For more information, visit the company's Web site at www.backpackinglight.com.