Middle Fork stirs memories

A great turn of events occurred on Idaho’s famed Middle Fork of the Salmon River after it became a “Wild and Scenic River” in 1968.

When I horse-packed down the river in August, 1935, hunters, fishermen, miners, trappers, river runners and entrepreneurs were littering the stream with wrecked boats, tin cans, broken saddles, old stoves, worn-out clothing and other junk.

Today’s Middle Fork visitors—nearly 11,000 a year—must pack out everything they bring in, even their body waste.

The Middle Fork might be as pristine as it was before white men arrived in the 1800s.

I returned to the river two years ago and was delighted to see that when breaking camp, guides and their guests picked up anything that might reveal the presence of a visitor.

In 1935, when I rode down the river with horse wrangler and ex-rodeo rider Bud Wetherall, junk was nearly everywhere from the mouth of Rapid River to the mouth of Loon Creek.

The fishing continues to be excellent on the Middle Fork, but not quite as good as it was in the 30s. Most of today’s river visitors are fly fishers. Even though they now must release their catch, scores of anglers fish the same holes every day from July into September. The trout are more wary than they were on my first pack trip.

For “rods,” we cut willow branches and tied onto the tips “lines” we had braided out of horsehair.

It didn’t make any difference what fly we used. Everything deceived the gullible cutthroat. In fact, big trout raced one another to a fly drifting through the slow-moving current. The river was full of cutthroat trout, some of them more than 20 inches long, and few had ever seen a hook.

One evening, we hatched a plan to trade trout for fresh meat with the only nearby wilderness inhabitant – the Forest Service fire lookout on the mountain above.

We caught about 20 nice cutthroats, wrapped them in moist grass and leaves and packed them into canvas nose bags used for feeding horses. We rode the horses and hiked the last stretch to the lookout.

The young guy who manned the lookout was delighted. Yes, he said, he had enough bighorn sheep meat to last Bud and I two or three days and would be happy to give us meat for the fish.

Years ago, to prevent fishermen from depleting fish populations, the Idaho Fish and Game Commission established regulations banning the use of bait and requiring anglers to use barbless hooks and to release unharmed all fish they hook. Even cutthroat, the least wary of the trout species, eventually learn to avoid fishermen’s imitations of bugs and minnows.

The Middle Fork, one of the few major unpolluted and undammed rivers in the United States, is still a fishermen’s dream stream while also being a kayaker’s challenge, a wilderness lover’s paradise and a place that provides spiritual therapy for countless needs.

Periodically, as we drifted past huge old Douglas fir trees and Ponderosa pines and camping areas, I wondered what the Middle Fork would look like today if it hadn’t been designated as a Wild and Scenic River in 1968 and in 1980 as part of the 2.3 million-acre Frank Church-River of No Return Wilderness. The designations stopped mining, logging, homesteading and other activities, including littering the area with the garbage of civilization.

At 87, I was the oldest of our rafting group. Although I didn’t scramble up steep, rocky hillsides to see Sheepeater Indian petroglyphs or hike two miles up a steep trail to see the site of a historical Chinese mining operation, I participated in all other activities.

I don’t hike as well as I did in 1935, but that’s the beauty of a rafting trip. It equalizes the ages.