with the tower in pilot jargon he taxied the plane out to an area short of the take-off runway. Hank then began to rev the engine while holding the plane in place with the brakes. He made sure the engine could achieve the necessary power, and other critical instrument readings were satisfactory. With the engine test completed and final clearance from the tower Hank rolled out onto the run way and gunned the engine. We accelerated down the runway and lifted off after a very short distance.
The plane climbed slowly as Hank made a wide circle around the airport to gain altitude. The engine noise was very loud but the sound was masked somewhat by the sound of air. The plane was not pressurized, since it only flew at low altitudes. The sound of rushing air permeated the cabin. We headed northeast over the outskirts of Boise and flew over a reservoir and the Boise River. There were a lot of people tubing on the river below. It seemed strange to see people tubing on a river so close to a large city. This was quite a contrast to where we were headed, and what we would do. We kept gaining altitude so that we could clear some tall mountains north of Boise. As we passed over the mountains you could see their peaks, rugged rock formations and pristine alpine lakes. We flew so low over them that you felt like you could reach out and touch them. The Boise National Forest and the Sawtooth Wilderness Area resplendent in the afternoon sunshine slowly passed beneath us. We crossed the Payette River and flew into a long mountain valley. Hank turned the plane to a more northerly course and headed straight up the valley. On both sides of us were the Sawtooth Mountains with the Sawtooth National Recreation Area to our right. The jagged, sharp peaks of the Sawtooth couldn’t have had a more appropriate name. I looked back at Sheila and Tommy in the rear of the airplane to see how they were doing. Their eyes were glued to the magnificent scenery. I had a feeling that this would be a trip we would long remember.
The plane droned on through the mountain valley for some time. Gradually at the far end of the valley a dark spot began to turn into the outlines of some buildings. As we got closer a dirt airstrip next to the buildings became visible. The buildings grew into a small town – Stanley, Idaho!
Stanley, Idaho, situated on the Main Salmon River, is a relic of the old west that survives as the jumping-off point for river trips, hikers and climbers. The 2000 Census lists 100 residents, but from talking with the locals only a few hardy souls stick it out through the winter. Stanley often has the coldest temperature in the lower 48 states during the winter, and at an altitude of 6,200 feet the snow accumulation can be measured in feet.
After checking into the only motel in town where we would meet the rest of our fellow travelers and the lead guide, Sheila, Tommy and I enjoyed a short walk around the town’s business district. It was a handful of rough-hewn wood plank buildings. We had a good steak dinner in a bar that served food. The bar was run by people that had the same profile as Hank. It was easy to imagine that the town did not look a lot different a hundred years ago, long before rivers were rafted for pleasure.
Chapter 4
Orientation
After returning to our motel room and relaxing for a while, it was time to attend the trip orientation meeting. The meeting was held on a patch of grass beside our motel. It was hosted by Annie our lead guide. There were twenty three guests or clients including Sheila, Tommy and me.
Annie kicked off the meeting by introducing herself. She was a perky, physically fit young woman around 30 years old. Annie had gained experience and confidence guiding many river trips. She spoke with a crisp western twang and a friendly smile. Before we got into the details of the orientation, Annie had us introduce ourselves to each other. She asked us to add a little about our outdoor experience, skills and what we would like to get out of the trip, to help her get acquainted with us.
The group was a mixed bag of ages, sexes, skills and interests. The largest bunch was two families travelling together form Oregon. One of the families knew the owners of the rafting company. The two sets of parents were around 40, and each family had a 13 year old daughter and an 11 year old son. One of the boys, Buddy, would be a “Dennis the Menace” character throughout the trip. There were 3 Germans, one of whom lived in the U.S. They were 50-60 years old and very reserved as you might expect. A retired couple from upstate New York had come off a hiking trip in the Sawtooth Mountains to join our trip. There was an odd couple - a man in his 50’s, who sometimes guided for the rafting company and a young woman in her early twenties. The young woman made it clear that their relationship was strictly platonic. Rounding out the group were the three of us, the couple from Wisconsin, a young couple in their 20’s from the east coast, and a young woman that was a girlfriend of one of the guides on our trip.
It seemed odd that there were so many people in our group that were connected somehow with the rafting company. We learned later that raft trips are hard to fill over big holiday periods like the 4th of July week that our trip fell over. Apparently owners sometimes give complimentary or discounted trips to relatives, friends, business associates or employees to avoid cancelling a trip. The holiday week was also the reason we were able to book a trip on short notice.
After the introductions, Annie began explaining what we could expect on the trip. She explained that early the next morning we would take a short plane ride high into the Sawtooth Mountains. We would land on a dirt airstrip beside the Middle Fork at a put-in spot called Indian Creek at Mile 26.2 as measured from the source of the river. By July the river was already too low after the snowmelt to start rafting closer to the source of the river. At Indian Creek we would meet the other five river guides. After helping to load the rafts we would have a meeting to go over the equipment, paddling, river safety and rescue techniques.
Annie reviewed the type of rafts we would be using and the daily logistics of the trip. There were six rafts. A large provision raft with a single sweep oar in the stern for carrying tents, chairs, cooking equipment, supplies, food and beverages, etc. The provision raft would leave early each morning after we broke camp, but before we finished breakfast, and loaded the other five rafts with our large waterproof bags, and the equipment from breakfast. The provision raft was large enough to handle the river rapids with just one guide at the helm to steer it through the obstacles on the river. It would head down river to locate a campsite for the night and set up camp. This included putting up two man tents for the guests. Please remember that this trip took place in 1994. Today you are not likely to find amenities like tents set up by the guides, wine and beer included, or even small canvas back chairs to sit on in camp.
The other five rafts that guests rode in included two large rafts loaded with gear and food. A guide rode on top of each of these rafts facing forward with two oars. The oars were used more for steering than propulsion. Guests who wanted to just ride in a raft and enjoy the rapids, sightsee or fish rode in the large rafts. The other three smaller rafts were for guests who wanted to paddle the river and enjoy a more exciting experience running the river rapids. A guide road in the stern of the paddle rafts steering the raft with a paddle; giving instructions to the paddlers on when to paddle, how hard to paddle and so on. The paddle rafts were a great way to experience the river and rapids with limited likelihood of being thrown in the river.
For the guests who were capable and not afraid, there were a half dozen, one or two man inflatable kayaks, or “Duckies” as the guides called them. The duckies were fun and exciting. They were definitely only for those who wanted to experience the river up front and personal, including the risk of involuntarily swimming it!
Each morning after breakfast and loading, our little flotilla would head down river with an oar boat in the lead, followed by the duckies, then the paddle boats, with the second oar boat bringing up the rear.
At lunch time Annie said we would put into shore at a spot the guides would pick where we could sometimes enjoy a short hike while lunch was being set up. The same would be true at the end of the day. The camp location was selected to offer hiking opportunities, hot springs, abandoned homesteads, or unusual vistas of the river and mountains.
All
