A trio of men loading a makeshift catamaran into a river.
"There warn’t no home like a raft, after all," said the one and only Huckleberry Finn.
Andy Cochrane

How I Pulled Off My Own Huck Finn Rafting Adventure

To float the Missouri River Breaks, I assembled barrels, plywood and a few good friends

August 8, 2025 3:09 pm EDT

I don’t remember a ton from my sophomore year in high school, but a few things stand out. I was bad at talking to girls, played a lot of pickup basketball, hated having braces and at some point during the first semester was assigned Adventures of Huckleberry Finn by my English teacher, Mrs. Church. Twenty years later the literary classic came full circle, although not in the way I might have expected.

Years after the deeper lessons on race, equity and societal expectations coalesced in my brain, one thing kept nagging at me. After reading about Tom, Huck and Jim floating their raft down the Mississippi, I couldn’t stop thinking about building my own bespoke craft and floating a river of my own. It’s not just the novelty that drew me to the concept, but more so the flippant disregard for expectations and embrace of the unknown — including the possibility of failure.

Now in my mid-30s, I finally made it happen. This July I rallied a group of friends to the Missouri River Breaks, an unheralded national monument in northern Montana, loosely managed by the Bureau of Land Management. The monument is a mix of steep bluffs and sandstone towers, split down the middle by the Upper Missouri River, one of America’s iconic waterways. I picked the Breaks because it met all three key prerequisites for a Huck Finn remix: steady current, little whitewater and almost no rules.

While not a popular float, we found enough info online to hatch a plan. Most boaters who paddle the Breaks put in at Coal Banks Landing and take out at James Kipp Campground, a distance of about 100 river miles that flow past grazing cows, slot canyons and rocky bluffs. Most visitors paddle canoes, row dories or splash around in inflatable rafts, but inspired by Mark Twain’s seminal 1884 novel, we went another route. We bought 20 plastic drums, lumber, a basketball hoop and an outboard motor on Facebook Marketplace, then headed to Montana to build the bespoke raft and float the Upper Missouri.

Three men carry pallets of wood and blue barrels along the river's edge.
The barebones catamaran would have to accommodate a payload of 2,000 pounds.
Andy Cochrane

Designing and Building the Raft

Perhaps the most fun we had was early in the design process, as the wild idea became more and more tangible. I sketched possible layouts on paper alongside my good friend and talented designer, Wyatt, then mocked them up in CAD, testing assumptions about the size, shape and design. Seeing the raft modeled in 3D made me realize how close the childhood dream was to reality.

The ideal design needed to balance four important yet conflicting factors. First, it would have to be buoyant enough for our full group: eight adults and gear, a payload of around 2,000 pounds. Second, it needed to be nimble enough to navigate swifts, dodge sandbars and bend with the river. Third, it needed to be light enough to be trailered from Oregon to Montana. Last, it couldn’t break the bank, which forced us to be scrappy, using as much wood, hardware and tools as we could find lying around at home.

It didn’t take long to agree on a catamaran design, with the barrels forming a pontoon on each side. Sticking with standard dimensions of lumber to reduce the amount of cutting, we created a 12-by-20-foot floorplan with a crow’s nest in the back and sunshade in the front. Then we built three sections in the backyard, allowing us to test the design with all our power tools in hand. Surprised by how well it pieced together and how durable it felt, we pivoted to packing our personal gear for the adventure.

A pair of friends screw plywood into place while building the raft, with a beer can in the foreground.
We brought our favorite power tools from Greenworks — and some cheeky lagers, too.
Andy Cochrane

Unexpected Lessons From the Float

After adding a couple last-minute purchases like a basketball hoop and outboard motor, we loaded everything on trailers and departed the following morning. The drive started with some unlucky hurdles, including two blown tires on the highway. But, with a stubborn yet crafty group, we were back on the road within a few hours, only a little behind our original schedule.

Arriving at the put-in, we were happy to see very few people around. Building the raft was about adventure, not attention. The assembly went smoothly, with each of us chipping in in different ways. We began by tying the barrels in place, then moved each section into the water. After screwing the sub-assemblies together, we attached the plywood decking. Then came the finishing details: building the crow’s nest, diving board and motor mount. The full process took just four hours.

Two men on the makeshift raft, with a view of their DIY basketball hoop.
As the raft only moved at about three miles per hour, we regularly played games of H-O-R-S-E.
Andy Cochrane

Although we felt accomplished, the real adventure was just getting started. After pushing off and spending our first evening on the river grilling burgers and playing a few games of H-O-R-S-E, the sun set and the wind kicked up unexpectedly. Before we noticed, the wind had blown us to shore and the raft was lodged on rocks. The crew jumped into the water to get the raft unstuck while I started the outboard. With a large heave we dislodged the raft and motored back to the deep water channel, happy to see the raft wasn’t damaged. From that point forward, we knew to keep a closer eye on the wind and weather.

Over the following days we learned more lessons, some more important than others. We figured out how to find quiet and calm bays to camp at night, how to hide from afternoon headwinds and how to rig sails for the rare tailwind. We learned how to dodge hidden rocks with paddles and poles and, inversely, when to let the river just take us downstream. We learned about reflective sunburns, the right fishing lures and how the night sky seems almost endless in northern Montana. Most importantly, we learned how to let go and accept the slow speed of the river.

A full view of the DIY raft, with multiple levels, bags, coolers, a paddleboard and a propane tank.
In all its splendor. Don’t copy our design! Drumming up your own is half the fun.
Andy Cochrane

Tips for Doing It on Your Own

As the sun set on our final day, we pulled into the lee of a small peninsula and motored to the take-out, using headlamps to scout for shallow rocks in the water. After landing on the sandy beach, we secured the raft and, for the first time, let out a sigh of relief, realizing our makeshift raft had made it through wind, waves, rocks and rapids, all without major issues. Not long after, however, I found myself consumed by a different thought: a wish that we were still floating downstream.

For those interested in creating your own Huck Finn adventure, I have a few words of wisdom. The first, strangely enough, is to build it in your own way, not to replicate our trip or design. Ingenuity and innovation are what made this trip special and where you’ll learn the most. Whether it was the initial design, last-minute oddities we brought along or tweaks on the river, the best part is just figuring it out.

My second tip is that less is more. There were quite a few pieces of gear that I brought on the raft but left in my dry bag the entire time, content with just the basics. The same philosophy goes for the design of the raft. We initially mocked up a complex design and planned to bring extra kayaks and paddleboards (we did bring one, which was nice), but I’m really glad we pared it down. The simplicity kept us together, talking, laughing, cooking, playing music and working together to keep the raft heading downstream.

Finally, whatever speed you think you will travel at, divide it in half. Despite being buoyant and durable, our raft functioned more like a barge than a boat, traveling three miles per hour at most. Combined with winds, river obstacles and breaks, doing two dozen river miles a day meant being on the water for long hours. This can be fun if everyone is up for it, but sometimes a little extra flexibility is quite nice, too.

A close-up of the raft's coolers, with a man on a  sleeping bag in the background.
We sorted breakfast, lunch and dinner supplies into three different Yeti coolers.
Andy Cochrane

The Gear and Equipment We Loved

Nota bene: All products in this article are independently selected and vetted by InsideHook editors. If you buy something, we may earn an affiliate commission.

Kavu Shorts and Sun Hat: I packed for the Breaks like most of my backcountry adventures, with a spare set of base layers, extra-warm layers and a few bonus items in case things got really wet. That said, I wore the same Kavu shorts, shirt and hat the entire trip, because they were comfortable and quick drying. Kavu, a boutique, water-centric brand, makes some of the best river gear out there.

Yeti Hard Coolers: To bring enough food for a week with a large group, we used three massive coolers from Yeti, organized by meals: breakfast, lunch and dinner. This system worked great for us and the coolers kept our meats, cheese and veggies fresh for the entire time we were on the river. Having good, real food makes life better, especially on the last few days of the trip.

Greenworks Drill, Impact Driver and Circular Saw: To build the raft at the put-in we used the cordless power tools we trusted the most, because we didn’t have a backup if they failed us. This included two drills, two impact drivers and a skill saw, all from Greenworks. This was all we needed to fully assemble the entire raft, attach the crow’s nest, basketball hoop and outboard motor, plus make fixes along the way.

Ampace Andes Power Station: To make sure we had enough power for the raft assembly, we brought a large battery from Ampace. The Andes Power Station has a capacity of 1,462 watt-hours, which in layman’s terms is enough to build an entire raft and recharge all our devices for a full week — with energy to spare.  

A man grilling burgers on a little grill aboard the raft, with a propane tank beside him.
Who’s hungry? We ate a lot better than Huck, Tom and Jim, to be fair.
Andy Cochrane

MSR WindBurner Stove: While we cooked most of our dinners — burgers, brats and grilled veggies — on a portable grill with a large propane tank, everything else was done on a WindBurner, because it was so simple and easy to use. This included many rounds of coffee every morning, side dishes at lunch and dinner, and boiling water for staples like pasta and rice to feed a large group of guys.

SealLine Pro Zip Duffels: Each of us packed our spare clothes and personal gear in duffels, which were then strapped to the raft with p-cord and D-rings. I used a mid-sized Pro Zip duffel because it’s both durable and easy to open or shut quickly. This allowed me to snag my camera, fishing gear and sunscreen without issues or worry about other things getting wet.

Astral Bowen PFD: While we didn’t wear PFDs the entire trip (some of the river is super calm), we would throw them on for storms, swifts or big waves. I love the Bowen because it’s simple, low profile and lightweight, making it comfortable to wear for long periods while still easy to take on and off quickly.

10 Barrel Money Cat Lagers: Perhaps the highlight of the trip was our beer fridge, which was situated in the front-middle of the boat and loaded with canned cocktails, Pub Cerveza and, my personal favorite, Money Cat Japanese Lagers. There’s perhaps no better feeling than hanging out with a handful of your best friends, floating a river and drinking a tasty beer.

Meet your guide

Andy Cochrane

Andy Cochrane

Andy Cochrane contributes to the New York Times, Guardian, Forbes, Wired and Outside, but his best scribbles are unpublished notes to his beloved dog, Zero. You can find him on Instagram @andrewfitts.
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