{"id":15513,"date":"2018-02-06T12:00:17","date_gmt":"2018-02-06T20:00:17","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/community.nrs.com\/?p=15513"},"modified":"2019-04-01T16:20:22","modified_gmt":"2019-04-01T23:20:22","slug":"making-friends-crash-course-middle-fork","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/community.nrs.com\/duct-tape\/2018\/02\/06\/making-friends-crash-course-middle-fork\/","title":{"rendered":"Making Friends: A Crash Course on the Middle Fork"},"content":{"rendered":"

I planned an expedition in Idaho for two reasons. One, I fell in love with Idaho\u2019s rivers long ago, and I knew beyond the river there lied big wilderness. On my earliest river trips I remember noticing the trails going off into mountains unknown, and I said to myself, \u201cSomeday, I\u2019m going to return and really get a feel for this place.\u201d\u00a0And two, I needed a lower-key adventure to heal from near-tragedy. Over a year ago, I (barely) survived a 200-foot fall mountaineering in Wyoming. The trauma led me to crave a different kind of adventure, the type that had fewer chances to kill me, to be specific.<\/p>\n

I thought a lot about the risks I had taken in the past. Risks are inherent in most things I prefer to do. But it\u2019s not the risk itself that\u2019s problematic but the fact that I embark on precarious adventures by myself. I\u2019ve pushed my limits and myself and learned to love and accept the effects of my decisions alone, and in most cases in very unforgiving environments. Becoming so self-reliant has been a great discovery, but I\u2019ve been ready to share these experiences with others.<\/p>\n

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So I planned to spend 45 days moving through 800 miles of the unbroken core of Idaho\u2019s wilderness by trail and river. I recruited fairly reliable partners to accompany the hiking sections, and I joined groups for river sections. As planning progressed and my start date neared, one by one, all of my partners dropped off the trip. Never letting that stop me before, I left it at fate. One of the most critical sections to line up was the Middle Fork of the Salmon River, an 87-mile river section that\u2019s permitted by lottery only. I found a group with a launch date matching my itinerary, and I was very happy to accept their invitation. I didn\u2019t know any of them but was looking forward to meeting and running the river with a bunch of locals.<\/p>\n

This leg of my journey started in Hailey and I hitched a ride to the trailhead from a badass kayaker heading to the South Fork. She shared she was a little nervous; she\u2019d never paddled that stretch before. I had the same feeling in my stomach as I looked up at the Sawtooths, still deeply entrenched in snow. That very snow was creating some wicked high water in the headwaters of the Boise and Payette Rivers, as well as every other drainage in the range. The high water made it difficult finding places to safely cross. It occurred to me how helpful a big friend or two would be for these crossings, but what could I do?<\/p>\n

On day four, I reached Baron Creek, and my luck came to an end as I once again nearly perished alone in the wilderness. I dragged myself out of the woods rock pounded, dripping wet, freezing, and terrified. I had to take time to heal, replace gear and had a sudden desire to just be inside. I was pretty shaken. This was supposed to be a low-risk trip to overcome trauma. I hitchhiked to Boise, where the majority of the Middle Fork group lived, with plans to crash at a hotel and regroup. My main contacts, John and Jess wouldn\u2019t have any of it and insisted I recoup at their home.<\/p>\n

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Immediately upon meeting everybody in the group, I knew this river trip was going to be awesome. The graciousness and light-heartedness of the crew, and their willingness to take in a stranger even though they all knew and were quite comfortable around each other surprised me. John only responded, \u201cGet used to it, it\u2019s how we roll here in Idaho.\u201d I embraced their warmth and slowly felt myself unwind from my panicked self-rescue in the Sawtooths.<\/p>\n

After (finally) putting in at Boundary Creek, that familiar feeling, that joy as the current hits the stern, took over and I finally relaxed. We bantered amongst our boats, cheering after the drops and laughing at minor sticks on the numerous rocks. It\u2019s hard not to feel on top of the world when you\u2019re on a beautiful river but when you\u2019re with people that know what they\u2019re doing, are mega fun, safe, and you click with, it\u2019s unbeatable! We soaked in the beauty of the changing river corridor by day and by night we ate, drank, danced and boccee\u2019d.<\/p>\n

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I believe one of my selling points for getting invited on this trip was my past experience on so many rivers. I offered some peace of mind that if something went wrong or somebody got hurt I could easily be a stand-in or help in an emergency. Usually, I\u2019m running my own boat, but to ease logistics I just hopped on with Jess and John. We instantly melded and the days on the river went fast while we got to know each other. John, a guide out of Riggins was great on the oars and gave us good rides through rapids while always finding the time to crack jokes.<\/p>\n

I enjoy boating with new people because you have this incredible chance to learn different ways of handling a boat and the river. I reveled the rare opportunity to be a passenger, really watching the river and its currents. I had the chance to spot wildlife and appreciate all the side creeks tumbling down. I soaked in much more of the landscape and photographed so much more than if I had the sticks in my hands.<\/p>\n

In the mid-morning of day five, we stopped at Sunflower Hot Springs, an amazing spot in the river\u2019s bend with four or five natural tubs set into the hillside. Below the tubs, a hot waterfall pours over a ledge to the beach below. Several of us were elbow to elbow in a pool soaking, when a wind gust came upriver, bringing with it a rainstorm. We sat out the storm in the hot water and watched the sheets of rain move through the canyon. The storm didn\u2019t last all that long, and when another trip came in we took our leave and continued downstream.<\/p>\n