The Idaho Four Rivers Lottery, for the Middle Fork and Main
Salmon, Snake River Hells Canyon and Selway, is an annual ritual
for many boaters, especially for those of us who live in the
Whitewater State. Odds for drawing a permit are something like
3:1 for Hells Canyon, 11:1 Main Salmon and 27-28:1 for the Middle
Fork and Selway.
Most of us struck out this year out but one of our newer Customer Service Reps,
Virginia Williams, drew a late-May Selway! That is right in the Busy Season for
us, so she had to limit the NRS invites to SE Wholesale Rep Brian Chaffin, Purchaser
Jenni Robinson, Shipping Associate Matt Watterson, Retail CSR Tyler Harris and
me.
Meetings were held, lists were made and others were invited to fill the 16-person
trip limit. I got to invite one person and my buddy Arthur (who went with me
on last year’s Grand Canyon trip) jumped at the chance.
As the time drew near, our spirits rose and fell with the USGS gauge readings
we checked daily. The Selway is not a river to be taken lightly. It drops an
average of 28 feet per mile and the five-mile stretch of continuous whitewater
below Moose Creek averages some 80 feet per mile. Several boaters have died on
the river, often in high water.
Our launch was on a Wednesday.
On the preceding Sunday, the gauge was still yo-yoing up around the danger zone.
Brian served as the link between the trip members and we reached a consensus to
make the final call Monday morning. When we talked on Sunday, he suggested an
alternative: “If we don’t go on the Selway, how about a combination Middle
Fork/Main Salmon trip? We’d have to get a Middle Fork cancellation, but it’s
pre-lottery season on the Main. It would be epic!”
Epic indeed; 185 river miles in six days. Hmm, the other time I
did a back-to-back Middle/Main, we’d run all the way out
the Salmon to the Heller Bar takeout on the Snake – 310 miles,
but we’d taken 16 days, including a couple of layover days.
However, this time of year we’d have good flows – 30+
miles a day – doable.
So, I called the Middle Fork Ranger District; their recorded message
said that as of Friday they had a Wednesday launch open! Brian
and I agreed we’d both call first thing Monday morning to
secure a just-in-case permit. Arthur called, he’d flown in
from Albuquerque and was spending the night with his sister.
The minutes ticked down to the 6:45 a.m. Pacific (7:45 Mountain)
office opening and I started calling. On the second try, I got
through. They had a Wednesday launch date and Brian hadn’t
gotten through yet, so I grabbed it.
Arthur showed up at my place and we
made the final packing of our gear and cooler. We loaded my pickup, stopped by
Tyler’s house to pick up some of his gear and headed out of town for Moscow,
before noon. When we got to NRS, the agreement reached was that for our group,
the Selway, at present flows and with predicted weather, was too risky.
Combo it was to be!
We went to the Frameshop and began loading the big company trailer.
We jigsawed in two rafts, two catarafts, frames, oars, coolers,
dry boxes and all the miscellaneous stuff you need to live on the
river. Brian was going to pull the trailer with a pickup he’d
just purchased but hadn’t gotten licensed. So he hooked onto
the trailer and sprinted for the licensing bureau. Arthur and I
went to pick up Jenni and TJ.
On our way to get
them we made our final stop at a supermarket. There we saw a bumper
sticker that set the tone for this crazy, spur of the moment adventure.
It said, “Where are we going and why am I in this handbasket?”
(For those of you not familiar with the saying this references,
try putting the phrase “in a handbasket” into an Internet search engine.)
TJ’s brother, Rett, worked at NRS in the past, had left to
work at Coldwater Creek and is now at Backcountry.com. Rett was
driving up from Utah and would meet us at the put-in. We joined
up with Brian in Lewiston, 30-miles south of Moscow. I dropped
off my truck; we grabbed fast food and the five of us finally got
on the road about 6 p.m.
Stanley,
Idaho, at The Bakery for the gathering of the clan
©Jenni Robinson | Miles and miles of
miles and miles ahead of us. Down Hwy 95 to New Meadows, Hwy 55 through McCall and
Cascade to Forest Service 24. TJ entertained us with tales of bike racing,
playing hockey and other craziness. The truck’s CD player ate a disc, much to
Brian’s disgruntlement. Intermittent rain dogged us through the darkness.
We ran out of steam near Lowman and pulled into the Forest Service’s Pine
Flats Campground, at about 3,700 feet elevation. During a break in the rain,
we fumbled for headlamps and set up tents (buried under frames, of course) on
the wet ground. No sooner than heads hit the Paco
Pads, the rain recommenced.
|
We woke to a drizzly, drippy dawn. Brian and Jenni passed out
muffins; we packed up wet tents and pressed on. Up over Banner
Summit, we entered the snow zone and followed a snowplow for
miles. “Where are we going and why am I in…” In
beautiful Stanley we pulled up to The Bakery Restaurant, our
agreed rally point, to find Rett’s truck parked outside,
piled high with snow. Rett and Brian H. were already inside,
soaking up the warmth and the good coffee. Brian, our only kayaker
and a friend of Tyler’s, is also from the Salt Lake City
area and had ridden up with Rett. They had camped near Stanley,
6,400 feet elevation, in the snow.
| Breakfast at The Bakery was
sumptuous, huge breakfast burritos and sandwiches and lots of coffee and tea.
Soon we were joined by more trip members – Telly and Jim, Middle Fork guides
for Rocky Mountain River Tours and Collin, a guide with White Cloud Rafting
Adventures. Introductions all around, more coffee, a stop for gas, ice and
last minute supplies, then off to the put-in. We saw many bands of elk in the
flats as we drove to Boundary Creek. After turning off the highway onto the
Forest Service road, we followed two tracks through the snow down to the river.
“Where are we going and why am…”
| 
Herds
of elk populate the meadows.
©Jenni Robinson |
The road into Boundary. “Where are we going and why am I in this…?”
©Jenni Robinson | At Boundary, one group was ahead of us,
almost finished rigging. We checked in with the Forest Service lady and lo-and-behold,
there was an open permit for the day! We wouldn’t have to wait for
tomorrow to use my permit, allowing us a jump start. We went back and vigorously
tackled rigging boats. As we got our boats pretty well put together, the
rest of our party arrived – Virginia, her father Shane, Matt, Tyler
and his friend Ali, and Ryan, a guide with Hughes River Expeditions. They’d
gotten a late start and had spent the night in McCall, at a friend’s
home (inside, out of the weather… the nerve of them). |
By
4:30 we were ready and after a safety talk and trip discussion,
we shoved off into the swift current. The posted flow at
the put-in was 4.65 feet at Middle Fork Lodge. Our starting
line-up was Telly, Jim and Collin leading in Telly’s
16’ Avon Pro, then Ryan, Virginia, Shane and Matt
in a 16’ Riken Nez Perce, then Arthur and me in my
15’ NRS E-150, Tyler and Ali in a 14’ NRS
E-140,
Rett and TJ in a 16’ NRS River Cat and Brian C. and
Jenni in a 14’ NRS River Cat. Brian H. was a free
roamer in his Necky Jive. | 
Sliding a boat down the ramp to the Middle Fork.
©Jenni Robinson |
Six little boats, all in a row, waiting to launch.
©Clyde Nicely | Things went fast; booming through First Bend, Murph’s and Gardell’s Holes, “Was that Sulphur Slide?”, then Velvet Falls.
No sneak around Velvet on the left at this flow; take as little of the river-wide
hole as you can. Find an eddy, pull in, regroup. By the time we got to Big Bend
Camp, it was 6:00 and we decided to grab it.
Tie up the boats, unload,
set up the kitchen and put out the groover – part of every river camp.
Rett and TJ had dinner duty (our food plan was each boat on their own for
breakfast and lunch, community dinners divvied up in two-three person groups).
They laid on a big feast of spaghetti, spring-mix lettuce salad, garlic bread,
a huge caramel apple pie from Mother Costco and bottles of wine. Mighty good
stuff. |
The night’s
campfire was a good one. With all the guides on the trip (in addition
to Telly, Jim, Collin and Ryan, Brian C. and Tyler were guides on
several rivers before coming to NRS), the stories were bound to be
good. Jim’s story was the best of the evening. With a bit of help
from Telly, he recounted how on his third day as a river guide a
group of them was sent to rescue a group of private boaters on
Marsh Creek, a major tributary of the Middle Fork.
They went in a
paddleboat with minimal gear; Jim said he had a sleeping bag and the
clothing on his back. The creek was in flood stage, 8.5 feet. The
rafters had wrapped a boat and one of their party was drowned and
missing. The boaters did not want to continue, so the guides
volunteered to take their rafts out to Boundary. Telly and another
guide took over the oars on the two remaining boats (Telly had one
straight oar and one bent one), which left Jim and another guide to
R-2 their paddle raft. Following was a horrific tale of huge holes,
must-make moves and scary eddies. It was told with a lot of colorful
commentary and humor, but it was obviously only funny in retrospect,
because they’d survived it!
We didn’t make a
late night of it. The hustle bustle of getting ready for the trip,
long drives, etc left most of us tired and ready to hit the sleeping
pads.
We were a draggy
bunch on Wednesday morning, slow to leave the tents and sleeping bags.
Arthur and I broke out the Coleman Folding Oven, a great rafting
kitchen addition. I’d made up a bunch of breakfast burritos (egg,
sausage, onion, peppers and cheese wrapped in a flour tortilla)
and Arthur had brought up some delicious New Mexico tamales. Wrapped
in foil, they made great hot breakfasts, with no clean up. Tyler and
Ali also brought items to heat up and others warmed bagels.
Finally on the
water, Arthur rowing. He’s a great boating companion, a hard worker
and a good boatman. It didn’t take us long to get to Powerhouse Rapid,
good whitewater. The guides on the trip bring another excellent dimension;
they run this river so often, at all flows, that mostly we don’t have to
stop and scout.
An exception is Lake Creek Rapid at Mile 21. A blowout at Lake Creek had totally
changed the course of the river, pushing its waters into the trees along the bank.
This had eroded the bank and dumped huge trees into the river. We knew about the
problem and approached the site cautiously. There were lots of boats pulled in and
lots of head scratching going on. There was a crew of commercial outfitters and
guides working on removing some of the wood, using steel cables, hand winches and
comealongs. | 
Lake Creek Rapid
©Jenni Robinson |
The rapid is in
an S-curve, right above Pistol Rapid. Water was pouring through the
trees on river right, probably soon to bring more wood into the water.
There was a large tree, with its root ball facing upstream on the
upper end, then two huge trees in mid-river, with water flowing to
the right, over them and to the left. A death trap if you were in the
wrong place. Various options were discussed, including a nasty portage.
Finally, someone
ran it and it looked doable. Telly ran it and did fine. I was
concerned about my ability to make the pull. I asked Jim if he would
run my boat through it. It felt weird asking someone else to take that
chance for me, but it seemed like the best choice for me. He did it
fine and I was grateful for his help. Everyone got through safely and
we were on our way again.
Only 3.5 miles
down to Indian Creek, where there were lots of boats. Many people were
flying into Indian to avoid the mess at Lake Creek. We were on a push
to make lots of miles, to keep on schedule, so we blew past Indian.
Down through Marble Creek, Ski Jump and Jackass Rapids. Even with our
good current, we had to keep on the sticks to make the good time we
needed. Great to have Arthur to help spell on the oars. Some of the
boats spotted a black bear along this stretch.
We pulled into
Big Loon Camp in great time, about 5:30 – a 44-mile day! Tyler had a
chuckle to relate. He, Ali and Brian H had done a Middle Fork trip
last year and today we had passed four of their camps!
Kitchen at the mouth of Loon Creek.
©Jenni Robinson |
Loon is a great campsite, big and open, lots of room. Tyler, Ali and Brian H whipped
up a delicious meal of tortellini and meatballs, salad, bread (including some
homemade by Ali) and a delightful assortment of Pepperidge Farms cookies. They
also supplied wine and there was leftover vino from last night – no one went
away hungry and a good time was had by all. |
Some folks
elected to hike up to the hot springs, one-mile up the creek. Some
hit the bag early, after our long day. Those of us that stayed up
for the campfire had a great time, as the stories flowed. Telly told
this outrageously funny story about a medical emergency. Even with
the fire away from the tents and the noise of the river and creek,
I still figured that my laughter was keeping camp awake. Jim told a
couple of dandies also, but he made me promise not to repeat them,
so it’ll just have to be our dirty little secret. I’d set up my tent
right by Loon Creek and the rushing water was a great sleep aid.
Some made
an early visit to the hot springs. We got a good, early start,
~9:30.
We are seeing quite a few Canada geese, mostly in pairs. Saw a
band of big horn sheep, with a tiny lamb, only a few days old.
Lots of
mergansers. It was a big water day – the Tappens, Aparejo, Haystack,
Jack Creek, Porcupine, Redside and Weber. Wow! A 35-mile day and we
still got to Ship Island Camp by 3:30.
The landing was
swift, so we staged one at a time to help catch boats. After
unloading, we pulled boats up on the rocks to prevent rocking and
rubbing in the current. Ship Island is a large camp, running
quite a ways along a low bench. Camp was set up and a ferocious
card game got started. Arthur and I pulled out a jug of Toad Juice
to celebrate the great day. Matt actually fumbled his pass and
spilled some – no gold star for Matt.
|
It was Brian and Jenni’s meal night. They didn’t have a partner, so Arthur and I
gave them a bit of help. They had brought half-a-cow, ground, from which Jenni made
bunches of thick burger patties. They also produced half-a-pig’s worth of
brats. The charcoal was fired up, coleslaw made, fresh corn on the cob was
boiled up,
burger fixings were prepared and bags of chips opened. “Cheese burger or
plain? Want a brat with that too?” Lots of food and we ate until we were more than full…
then they brought out the Smores. I should mention that we had one vegetarian among
the herd of carnivores. Ali was a good sport and cooks were good about providing
veggie options. Brian and Jenni threw on some garden burgers for Ali. | 
Burgers and brots at Ship Island
©Jenni Robinson |
It was a good
night around the campfire; I got some good visits with several folks.
The group had really melded. That’s usually the case on a river trip.
You can be strangers when you start, then as the days unfold and you
share adventures, camp duties and evening conversation, a bonding
takes place.
Friday morning I
woke to a Canyon Wren serenade. Little guy was singing his heart out;
I do love their song. I’m an early riser on the river, often the first
one up. I get to make the coffee, listen to the river sounds. A
favorite time.
We got away at
our customary 9:30 departure time. A great day of rapids – Upper and
Lower Cliffside, Ouzel, Rubber, Hancock, Devil’s Tooth, House Rock,
Jump Off and Goat Creek. Before too long, we were looking back at
the confluence and the Middle Fork Canyon. This is often a time of
mixed feelings – satisfaction for a fun, safe trip, and some sadness
that it’s over. But today, there’s a whole new river to look forward
to – here comes the Main Salmon and a rapid I’ve never run before –
Cramer Creek is just ahead!
Clyde Nicely
e-News Editor
Note: We’ll finish the trip in the next issue of the e-News – stay
tuned!
