Rafting the Salmon River

On the second full day of the Idaho portion of our American vacation, we drove an hour north of McCall to Riggins to raft the Salmon River. As I had mentioned in a previous post, we went on a rafting trip in Korea earlier in the summer and it was lame. The scenery was awesome (standard green and brown mountains and even waterfalls showering down on us), but the rapids were weak and our guide made Sami and me re-create the scene from Titanic where they are on the bow with outstretched arms, and then pushed us in the back into the water.

This was some REAL rafting with class 4/5 rapids and American scenery that would look dandy on any postcard. The gray-green river cut through a massive dry canyon beset with tall pines that put the stumpy, twisted Korean variety to shame. Having grown accustomed to rows of 20 story apartment buildings, we were mesmerized by how far the royal blue sky expanded. Billowy white pillows of clouds were welcome relief from the smoggy Seoul skyscape.

Our tanned, muscular guide was a student at the University of Idaho, so my dad and he bonded over their mutual hatred of Boise State. Also, being the outdoorsman that he is, my father felt naturally compelled to inquire about the status of fish and game in the area. How many deer are around here? How many salmon do the Native Americans get to keep? Do they use nets? When is the salmon run?

The guide told a ridiculous story of seeing two bald eagles attempt to carry off a young fawn. They would lift it up a ways and then drop it to the ground in an attempt to break its legs. I don't know if it was true or not, but it made for a pretty crazy visual.

At one point during the trip we were allowed to exit the raft and float a section of the rapids. This was great fun despite the cold water temp and the fact that, lacking the proper shoes, I soaked my favorite Asics. They still stink like river water.

Later on, I got to sit on the front of the raft, facing the water and hold onto the rope that ran around the front cowboy style. I felt confident that I could hold on, and did, but the weight of the wave knocked me flat on my back, asics in the air like a baby during a diaper changing. Later my brother's finacee would take over the reigns and remain upright through much harrier rapids.

Afterward, I had even worse luck in one of the more traditional positions along the side of the raft. During one giant swell, I slipped from the foothold and tumbled into the water. With oar still in hand, I kicked myself toward the top. Just as I thought I had reached the surface, my head bumped the bottom of the raft and sent me downward. My left knee struck a boulder, which I knew I was going to pay for later on. At the moment adrenaline had numbed my senses. My only concern was to hold my breath long enough to make it to oxygen. When I finally got there I was greeted by the smiles of the guide and the remainder of my family (my sister had gone overboard also). Despite their jovial attitude, I knew that I had a close call and the concerned faces of a rafting party nearby seconded my notion.

Afterward, I tried to play it cool as we boarded a rickety shuttle bus back to the jump off point. It might be awhile before I enter another raft, unless of course it is back in the puny rapids of a Korean river.