Words:
Nathan Watt
Photos:
Cliff Wood
Nathan Watt
Nathan is an instructor at Aldercreek Kayak and Canoe https://aldercreek.com
Wild and scenic on the Middle Fork
The Middle Fork of the Salmon River is a pristine stretch of water winding through the Frank Church – River of No Return Wilderness in Idaho. Designated as a National Wild and Scenic River, it offers paddlers a remarkable journey through deep canyons and remote landscapes. Along its many twists and turns, visitors can discover natural hot springs, ancient Native American rock art, and a variety of rapids ranging from Class II to Class IV, depending on river flows.
A small airfield in Salmon, Idaho
It was late August, and summer was fading, yet I could still feel the intense sun beating on the back of my neck at the small airfield in Salmon, Idaho. Our crew shuffled around, loading gear onto the scale for our flight into Indian Creek on the Middle Fork Salmon River. We needed to weigh and distribute the gear evenly to avoid overloading the plane. With nine people, a couple of kayaks, and a raft, we carried a manageable amount of equipment. After weighing everything, we lingered by the runway, letting anticipation build. I was eager to begin the trip.
When it came time to load the planes, we divided into three groups. I was in the first group, responsible for pumping up and loading the rafts. The idea of flying in for a trip like this made me feel like Indiana Jones about to embark on a daring journey – minus the headhunters and double agents.
The flight was beautiful as we slipped over desolate ridges and green pines. Our ‘Sky Captain’, a nickname given to the pilot by a sarcastic friend, humoured us with a sudden dip of the wing after we requested a barrel roll.
Flying in something that small feels like driving a Volkswagen buggy through the air – you feel every bump. As the Indian Creek landing strip came into view, the pilot reduced the throttle, making my heart jump. He executed a tight turn, lined us up, and dropped the plane onto a very small runway. A storm was rolling in, and I knew my friends on the next flights were in for a different experience. Judging by their faces, I was right. Overall, Gem Air gets five stars for professionalism and for delivering us safely in poor weather. These guys are pros.
We pumped the rafts and loaded our gear, inflating thwarts to use as rollers down the steep ramp – similar to how the Egyptians built the pyramids. That Indiana Jones feeling returned.
A rough night
The rain came down hard as we scrambled to set up camp. With the mix of rain and sand, I knew I was in for a rough night. Still, with the river at 1.5 feet, I was grateful for the potential bump in water level. I crawled into my tent with sand-covered legs and tried to brush them off before sliding into my semi-wet sleeping bag. The last thing I remember was watching a drop of water fall from the top of my tent and land on my sleeping bag every fifteen seconds. I told myself, “If you fall asleep, it will be over.”
Morning came, and the rain was still sputtering. The river had come up maybe half a foot and looked like chocolate milk. Things were looking good – and soggy. Before launching, we were given a presentation about the salmon life cycle by a volunteer at the launch site. She was a kind older woman who unexpectedly pinched my cheek and said, “Oh wow, you’re cute,” in a non-threatening motherly way. I giggled and thought, “This is a pleasant way to start the morning.” It was interesting to hear about the journey salmon take throughout their short lives, along with her theatrical salmon mating dance. They swim from the Salmon River to the Columbia River mouth, then head north to the San Juans. After feeding and socialising, they return to Idaho to spawn. Thinking about it gave me deep respect for these creatures – and made me physically tired just imagining the swim.
We launched with some hope, knowing we were approaching the first hot spring of the trip. Fog danced across the milky water as we made our way through the rain. After some fun class II–III rapids, we rounded the corner and saw steam rising from Sunflower Hot Springs.
As we arrived, the sun poked out. I peeled off my ten-year-old Immersion Research Super Model Drytop, recently revived with new gaskets, and to my surprise, it was still dry. The spring offered a stunning panoramic view from a high cliffside and a hot waterfall you could stand under to wash away your river sins. While soaking, I chatted with some east coast paddlers and swapped stories of the Youghiogheny, Cheat, and Savage River.
A few more miles brought us to State Land Camp, where the sun allowed us to spread out and dry our gear. I’ve always appreciated starting a trip with a Type Two Fun suffer-fest – it makes you grateful for sunshine and warm food.
On our second day, we had several miles to cover before reaching Hospital Bar Camp. We hit some minor rapids, the most notable being Jackass Rapid. In a kayak, it was an easy move, with the biggest hazard being a giant rock near the bottom. The raft styled it.
Hospital Bar
Hospital Bar was an open area on the river’s left side, sheltered by towering pines. This site was once used as a hunting ground by tribes such as the Nez Perce and Shoshone-Bannock. With canyon walls, a hot spring, and trails leading into the hills, I could see why people would have gravitated to this oasis. I imagined tribes gathering, trading, hunting, and holding ceremonies. I wandered around looking for signs of those who came before.
On a distant cliff, I saw a small sign hanging from a tree. I considered climbing up to it, but kept thinking about the rattlesnakes I’d meet on the way. Through binoculars, I still couldn’t read it. I guess it’ll remain a mystery.
Hot spring
I woke up early that morning so I could have a soak in the hot spring before my companions started milling about. It was a very small spring and right at river level. I collected some rocks and tried to hold as much hot water as I could in this small, sandy pocket, making a little tub just big enough for my lower body. I felt the hot water trickling down the rock onto my back as I watched the mist dance across the water.
The sun slowly rose, illuminating the canyon walls and bringing out the various reds and pinks of the surrounding geology. Once again, I found myself thinking about the native people who had sat in this exact same spot hundreds of years ago, experiencing this same view. In that moment, I was reminded that people come and go, our lives are short, but the earth remains. We are always walking over each other’s footprints.
Leaving Hospital Bar, we knew we were approaching the Tappin Falls series – the biggest and most technical rapids so far. In my Jackson Antix 2, I knew I’d have a sporty time. The group was mostly concerned about low water creating pin hazards for the rafts. Another kayaker and I moved ahead with radios to scout. We boofed, surfed, and made note of ‘F-U rocks’ – the ones perfectly positioned to ruin your day. Everyone had clean lines.
We eddied out on the river left to scout Tappin Falls. At this level, there was a small slot on the river right for rafts. Another group ran it while we scouted, which helped. I planted a boof stroke and kept my bow high. Our rafts came through smoothly, and our anxiety dropped. Next was Cove Creek Rapid, with a small slot leading into a boulder garden. Our group made it fine, but the group behind us had a small hang-up and unpinned themselves by shifting weight around – dogs included.
We were excited to reach Trail Camp, knowing we’d spend a layover day there. The campsite had stunning views and a trail along the river. I brought out my travel guitar and worked on some Sunny Pache tunes (my artist stage name) by the water. While hiking downstream, we stumbled upon a riverside resort selling ice cream, cold beer, and blocks of ice. A welcome surprise, considering our ice was disappearing fast. We stopped the next day again to restock. Our time at Trail Camp was spent relaxing, eating, hiking, and sipping cold drinks. The groover had a spectacular view – nothing like waving at passing raft trips while taking care of business.
Native American pictographs
Throughout the trip, we stopped at two different locations with Native American pictographs. This was my favourite part of the trip. At both sites, the pictographs were on rock faces protected by an overhanging ledge, keeping them preserved for hundreds – if not thousands – of years.
The red paintings depicted figures hunting animals and depictions of the rising sun. One seemed to illustrate human reproduction, or perhaps the origin of their people. Once again, I felt that overwhelming ‘wow’ factor and those introspective thoughts about human existence. I kept thinking: here we are, coming down this river with all our accessories, trying to be comfortable, while these people lived out here, off the land, in the purest form of humanity.
As I wrote this account of my time on the Middle Fork, I began to reflect on what matters most to me on a river trip. What’s truly memorable? At first, I wanted to detail every rapid, but I realised that isn’t what I really care about. I care about the journey and the experience shared with people I’m proud to call friends. I cherish the wildlife – bighorn sheep, chukars, lizards, and even the snakes.
At the end of my life, I won’t remember my steeziest line or how many sub-par stern squirts I did. I’ll remember the friendships, the camaraderie, the conversations, the land, and those who came before us. In the end, we can’t get our time back. Like the river, our lives only move in one direction. So do what makes you happy – jump in the current and make the most of it.
Aldercreek
Nathan is an instructor at Aldercreek Kayak and Canoe https://aldercreek.com
