Nowhere I’d rather be….
- nwriversphotograph
- Jul 31
- 6 min read
River time… sitting on the banks of Idaho’s Main Salmon River, deep within the Frank Church - River of No Return Wilderness. Stunningly beautiful. Quiet. Remote. Sandy beaches, sun, with summer constellations twinkling above you each night (Cygnus, Lyra, Aquila, Scorpius, and Sagittarius), and clean, pure, and inexorable free-flowing water all around. It is a time for introspection, reflection, and an intense awareness and appreciation of place.
Life seems to have just hit pause. No worries, distractions, or concerns (that I can change or control). Perhaps best of all, no texts, emails, or phone calls. I just sit and enjoy what is in front of me. Pressure and responsibility will come flooding back once I am off the river, but for a good week, it’s just me, the river, and good friends. We are each here, fully! Present and thankful. The only hint of the future, of what comes next -- is the river flowing past us downstream and around that next bend.
I have been here before. In 1998, I had been invited, along with my daughter and American Whitewater’s River Access Director, Jason, on a Main Salmon trip to discuss potential changes to the permit system in the Grand Canyon – seems the best work is always done on the river. It was my (then) nine-year-old daughter’s first western overnight whitewater trip, and, as you might imagine, that was so special for both of us. Lessons learned, friends made, father and daughter together on the river.
This time, both my wife Stephanie and I were invited again by friends who had scored a lottery permit for the river (it pays to have good friends!). It was a small party of ten, all river people, all friends, and all driven by the love of water, rivers, and wilderness. In my experience, rivers seal friendships forever. After eight days on the water, you learn about each person’s value (and values), what they are into, what their friendship is about – just from listening to them on the water and along the banks of the river.
The Salmon River runs for four hundred and twenty-five miles through one of the deepest canyons in the US. Starting at over nine-thousand feet in the Sawtooth Mountains, the river journeys downstream until it eventually flows into the Snake River deep within Hells Canyon on the Oregon-Idaho border (Hells Canyon is the deepest canyon, roughly two thousand feet deeper than the Grand Canyon). Early travelers and traders called the Salmon the “River of No Return” because rapids and gradient made returning upstream nearly impossible.
Designated by Congress in 1980, the Frank Church – River of No Return Wilderness is the second largest wilderness in the lower forty-eight states (second in size only to California’s Death Valley Wilderness). It is managed by two Forest Service regions and four national forests—Salmon-Challis, Payette, Nez Perce–Clearwater, and Bitterroot. One hundred and twenty-five miles have been designated as Wild and Scenic (W&S), a collection of this nation’s most exceptional rivers protected for the enjoyment of present and future generations. The Salmon River Wild & Scenic section is recognized for its free-flowing condition (no dams), water quality, remoteness, and natural, cultural, and recreational resources (ORV’s – Outstanding Resource Values). The corridor is within ceded lands for the Nez Perce and Shoshone Bannock Tribes of Idaho.
Our journey was on the Main Salmon; a private trip made up of experienced river runners who had all (outside Stephanie and once for me) been down the river multiple times. We put in at Corn Creek just downstream of the take-out for the Middle Fork Salmon (another of the most beautiful and exciting river trips anywhere) and took out at Carey Creek at river mile 80.7 (W&S designation ends at mile 77.3 so almost all of our trip was within this protected area). Our group consisted of four rafts (no kayaking for me this time!), and, as we put in, the flows were hovering around ten thousand cfs (cubic feet per second) which dropped slowly over the time we were there. The trip is class III -IV whitewater and usually takes six to seven days, but we were in no rush. We took eight, with a layover day at Blackadar camp.
Floating along down the river, with the Gospel-Hump Wilderness to the northwest and the Selway-Bitterroot Wilderness to the north, we watched Big horn sheep (lambs, ewes and one ram) coming down to drink at waters edge. At almost every mile, we were joined by mergansers, canyon wrens, kingfishers, osprey, and both golden and bald eagles. And yet to be identified… maybe a Lewis’s woodpecker which nests along rivers, and calls pine and freshly burned forests home? No black bears, no mountain lions, no grey wolves -- our loss.
River levels were perfect, the water temperature was cold and invigorating, rafts were expertly rowed, our campsites were absolutely breathtaking with broad sandy beaches that often-offered good shade (sometimes, only after climbing over piles of rock), no rain (expect the final morning). Each camp seemed better than the last, and we were ready at the end of each day with cold drinks and a great creative menu, prepared and shared by all. German Bratwurst, marinated flank steak, Dutch oven enchilada pie and pineapple upside down cake, bacon wrapped dates.
But it was hot! Most days in the high nineties or over one hundred. We were all prepared for that, but still… it was hot. Hot enough that hitting the waves and holes in the river provided a brief (but shocking) relief and hats, long sleeves and suntan lotion were a must to protect you as the heat waves reflected off the water.
As mentioned above, we were moving slowly and usually reached the next camp by mid-to-late afternoon. So, when it is that hot, what do you do?
This may be the true beauty of a river trip! Especially a raft trip where you can bring extra gear (vs. kayaking where food and a sleeping bag may be all you can fit in your boat). We opted to cook dinner and set up tents later in the evening as the sun disappeared over the ridges and shadows crept up the canyon.
We were prepared! Each day, as we stopped, our first priority was to get our chairs out and place them (and us) in the river. Then, break out the ice for gin and tonics and (one day) margaritas. Yes, we were really roughing it! Great conversations about other trips on the Main Salmon or other rivers (each of our friends have run the Grand Canyon many times). Tales of mishaps, miscalculations, and consequences. Discussions on the value of friendship, rivers, flowing water, and wilderness predominated (how could it not!). Bonding as twilight descends and as we share insights into family, sons and daughters, beliefs, principles, and priorities. What could be better than that!
Back in 1998, on my first Main Salmon trip with my daughter, one day was cold, with side driving rain and high winds. That night, as we were sitting under a tarp, firepan blazing, and drinking hot chocolates, my daughter said “I learned something today! If you are prepared, and know what you are doing, you can handle almost anything.” I thought, wow, how could I have set up a more important life lesson? Something she would remember forever. It was the perfect moment – until she continued “So dad, you need to listen to these people because they know what they are doing.” So special.
Endnotes:
· Stephanie and I would like to thank all of our friends (including two new and wonderful folks on this trip) who lugged our gear, and us, down this amazing river. I would say “the trip of a lifetime,” but I think every trip on a river (including this one) meets and exceeds that standard. Friends forever -- S.Y.O.T.R
· One of the most complex things about a Main Salmon trip is getting your truck from the put-in to the takeout. For perspective, it is roughly 576 miles from Bellingham to Boise where we were meeting our friends. The shuttle for the Main Salmon is between 350 and 400 slow, dirt miles, and maybe seven hours vs ten for the drive to Idaho. Most groups hire someone to drive their car downstream, where, once you arrive, you hope your keys are hidden in the right place, and your truck starts. Our drive just within Idaho: Boise to Salmon, the shuttle, and back to Boise was some 800 miles. What a great tour of central Idaho!
In April 2025, we spent 2 weeks floating down the Grand Canyon with family and friends. It was a wonderful experience. We even flipped and ended up in the river on one of the rapids (Hermit), but all survived to have a good story to share. It is definately a special time.