{"id":33862,"date":"2024-09-04T10:30:57","date_gmt":"2024-09-04T17:30:57","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/community.nrs.com\/duct-tape\/?p=33862"},"modified":"2024-08-28T17:22:10","modified_gmt":"2024-08-29T00:22:10","slug":"gateway-towns-north-fork-idaho","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/community.nrs.com\/duct-tape\/2024\/09\/04\/gateway-towns-north-fork-idaho\/","title":{"rendered":"Gateway Towns: North Fork, Idaho"},"content":{"rendered":"

There are moments or places on rivers that feel like portals. Like Vulcan’s Anvil, the dark and stately monolith that guards the flat-water approach toward Lava Falls in Grand Canyon. Or the Wilderness boundary on the Main Salmon, where manicured lawns and old homesteads replace the rugged expansiveness of protected land. There are also portals en route to the water, like dropping into the frenetic, motor-charged chaos of Moab in anticipation of Westwater.<\/p>\n

And then there are the communities, the human hamlets that are also gateways to rivers. We get excited about doing our pre-trip rounds through town, and we come to associate particular grocery or liquor stores or gas stations or city parks with the river trip itself. We find our favorite campgrounds or motels to stay at the night before launch, and our favorite splurgy dinners out before days of eating from coolers.<\/p>\n