Who wants chocolate cake?

Thursday night: we stayed the night at Blackadar Camp, on the north side of the river at mile 17. Each day a different couple in our party was assigned kitchen duties. That meant cooking and cleaning for the 19 adults and teens in our party. Dinner was the start to our cycle. Propane fueled a pair of four burner stoves. We boiled a big pot of water, used a second vessel to heat chili that had been slow cooked at home then bagged, sealed and frozen. Our menu featured chili dogs, potato salad and home made chocolate cake. Big chests full of ice were stowed on each boat. Thanks to that, you could hardly call this roughing it.

We found abundant wildlife in Frank Church Wilderness

This deer in the orchard studied me carefully before going about her business. We saw deer several times along with bear, big horn sheep, hawks and eagles. Mostly we viewed the wildlife from our boat as we floated down river. But occasionally we came upon them as we camped or scouted the area. Snakes and spiders were my least favorite.

Lunchtime on the Salmon River

Rowing the boat and running rapids takes a lot of energy and concentration. So I found myself ready to rest and eat when our leader declared it was time for lunch. Wwe beached our five boats and set up a pair of small tables. We reached into the ice chests and filled our bellies with fresh fruit, chicken salad sandwiches and a few cans of Pringle chips. Some drank tea, others soda and the rest of us water so all were fully hydrated.

After lunch several of us hiked up a dirt road to an orchard planted many decades before by a mountain main who made applejack and sold it prospectors. We came upon the remnants of a cabin. Destroyed presumably by fire, all that remained was the foundation. Up ahead were other cabins, well preserved. I was drawn to them with curiosity. Through the window we could see furnishings that included a wood stove, sink and table. Electrical outlets led me to believe the tenants must have used a generator. Our walk through the orchard led us to four or five grouse: a hen and four chicks. They didn't seem to mind our presence. We marveled at the elaborate irrigation system the delivered water from the creek to the stand of apple trees. On the right I spotted a doe standing motionless. I froze in my tracks. The deer and I exchanged stares for a few minutes before she calmly walked away at a deliberate pace. Two other deer that had gone undetected followed her into the woods.

"There was nothing we could do but watch"

Thursday morning: we loaded the boats and soon were underway. It was pushing noon but I soon found that I was the only one concerned with the time. Everyone else knew from experience that part of the fun on the river is the leisurely pace. There are sections of the Main Salmon where you relax and let the current do the work. Then there are others where you better know what you are doing and how to run each rapid. The guidebook offers tips but experienced rafters know how to spot the rocks and holes and best ways to avoid them. About a quarter mile past Phantom Creek we approached Rainier Rapid, a Class II that offered the biggest waves of any rapid we had seen so far on our trip. Just right of center we faced a large rock and hole. My friend on the oars used a cross handed stroke to move our blue Avon left of the hole, then turned our boat straight to run the rest of the rapid perfectly. He put us in an eddy so we could watch the next boat. The yellow catamaran was in the heart of the rapid. My son was behind on the yellow ducky tied to the stern. As they crashed into the wave train the ducky flipped and my son was in the water. There was nothing we could do but watch. My wife reached into the water and grabbed him by the arm. "Let him go, you'll dislocate his shoulder," her sister yelled. "Here, do it like this," she said as she gripped the neck of his life jacket and plucked him onto the yellow cat. They ran the rest of the rapid without incident. Afterward we laughed about the rescue, thankful that no one had been hurt. The river is littered with a lot of rocks and hidden obstacles in the rapids. We were warned that it wouldn't take much to hit your head on a rock or have your feet lodged and drown.

Climbing like a mountain goat

Thursday morning: after breakfast a few of us decided to challenge the massive mountain that faced the north side of our camp. The route we chose was steep and the terrain was comprised of soft soil, scrub grasses, a few large trees and rock outcroppings. Seeing no clear trail to the top the three of us bushwhacked our way, often using our hands and feet to scramble up the hillside. A pair of gloves would have been handy. The sky was blue and the sun was bright. The air was already hot. We rested in the shade of a 30 foot pine, taking pause to measure our progress and view our camp some 500 feet below. Continuing our ascent we followed an animal trail likely used by big horn sheep or mountain goats on their way to and from the water. Though this stretch was steeper the sandy soil gave way to rock and the footing was more secure for climbing. From the ridge, some 1500' above the river the view was breathtaking. We sat for a spell, drank water from Nalgene bottles and admired the magnificent panorama of the Main Salmon corridor and the canyon beyond. And to think that this was the view enjoyed nearly every day by the mountain goat or bald eagle who call this place home. I felt privileged to be here.

Main salmon: our first day was easy

Wednesday: put in at Corn Creek. The temp was pushing 100, the skies were clear, hardly a breeze. There were 19 in our party. Five boats carried our gear and food for 7 days. My son opted for an inflatable kayak and made his way confidently down river. About 30 minutes into our trip we pulled out the water canons. It was time for a water fight. The cold water felt good but evaporated in minutes. A short while later we were running Killum Rapid, a decent II+ run. Half mile later was Gunbarrel. Stopped for lunch , beaching the boats on a sandbar. Another couple miles, a few no-name rapids, past Horse Creek, ran Sub Creek Rapid, then made our way to Legend Campground where we would stay for the night. First priority for everyone was staking claim to a sleeping spot. Our camp was set up in no time. Legend with its long sandy beach and tall stand of trees offered a suitable site for our first night on the river. We spent the evening eating, drinking and sharing stories. As most of the others on this trip were new faces it gave us time to get acquainted.