Never at dull moment rafting the Middle Fork

People have described rafting the Middle Fork of the Salmon River as exhilarating, soul-refreshing and even life-changing. Its translucent water splashed with hues of blue, green and gold, its challenging rapids, its mind-bending geology and its bountiful flora and fauna, are awe-inspiring.

But in low water, it can also be a hell of a lot of work.

The wilderness river has been bony this summer, which means its skeleton of rubber-grabbing rocks and ledges is showing. Negotiating a raft laden with seven days of food, gear, ice and beverages through its protruding ribs is a unique challenge – especially during the first two days of the 100-mile trip, before tributaries add volume to the river’s flow.

It requires boaters to be on high alert to identify half-hidden hazards, to pick zigzagging lines through boulder fields, to spin and pinball their way downstream.

On occasion, when all else fails, it requires jumping into the river and wrestling a grounded boat off of a rock. That task is often followed by frantically climbing back on board and desperately lunging for the oars and control of the freed craft before the next rock stops it in its tracks.

Trip leader Brian Bannon of Uniontown, Washington, told our group of 17 it would be unusually active rafting, that we would be constantly busy reading the river and dodging hazards. The Middle Fork was running at 1.89 feet, according to the gauge at the Middle Fork Lodge. Flows below 2 feet are considered low and difficult.

Bannon was right. During those first two days, we spent little time with our heads tilted back, taking in the scenery or scanning the canyon for big-game animals. Instead, our eyes worked back and forth across the water, looking for pillows, riffles and waves, all hints of rocks that were close enough to the sur- face to grab the undersides of our rafts.

Even passengers like my wife, Sadie, who rides in the front of our cataraft, had to be on the lookout for hazards. “Rock,” she would call out to me. Or, “straight ahead,” meaning the coast was momentarily clear.

For a boater like me, one with moderate skills who is apt to find himself stuck on a rock from time to time, the first two days were a bruising and exhausting experience. For more experienced rafters like Mike Bunker and Janice Delaney of Livingston, Montana, it was an intellectually intriguing puzzle to be solved.

When I pingponged my way downstream, bouncing through rock gardens, they danced and finessed their boats through the obstacles. Sure they hit the odd rock or two, but unlike me, the expert boaters were able to extricate themselves with their oars or by shifting their weight.

I, on the other hand, found myself knee- to waist-deep in rushing water and on a number of occasions pushing, pulling and lifting the boat until the rocks let us go.

Some had quick and light catarafts, others were further challenged by big rafts loaded with gear and passengers.

We all had our issues, but none of us got stuck enough to require anything more than a few minutes of exertion to solve. Even though it was tough boating, I’d be surprised if any one of us would turn down a chance to do it again – tomorrow – with even less water in the river.

And even if it doesn’t sound like it, it was relaxing. The can of beer at the end of the day tasted all the better for the exertion. The same goes for the gourmet-quality food we cooked each night.

Throughout the trip, we stopped to look at American Indian pictographs and natural wonders like Veil Falls and Parrot Grotto, both natural amphitheaters where cool water plunges hundreds of feet through walls adorned with ferns and other hanging plants.

We fished for cutthroat trout and soaked in hot springs. Deer, elk and bighorn sheep were spotted along the way. Swallowtail butterflies fluttered around our heads, seemingly just to say hello. Western tanagers with orange snow cone heads and black-and-yellow bodies dotted the trees and brush along the river, and female common mergansers with their punk rock hairdos herded parades of the ducklings in back eddies.

By Day 3, the rafting became easier but by no means easy. There were still rocks to dodge and shallows to negotiate. But it became less busy.

In the middle of the trip, Days 4 and 5, mountain thundershowers added volume but also clouded the water. Days 6 and 7 were active, but this time with big rapids with fun drops, like Redside, Weber and Rubber.

And then too quickly, the trip was over.