For this trip I would be meeting up with Buddy and Frank for a weeklong tour of Idaho’s greatest hits. Instead of a single destination, we decided to split things up into shorter pieces to experience some great hiking and excellent rafting. Frank and his family had moved from Colorado to Boise, and he had been doing some work around Stanley and so was rapidly getting familiar with the area. My main goal was to climb the state’s highpoint, Borah Peak, a difficult mountain which would be the final highpoint I needed in the Mountain West. We’d also visit two other national caliber destinations; the 745,000 acre Sawtooth National Recreation Area, perhaps the country’s finest non-national park landscape, and the Hells Canyon National Recreation Area covering 652,000 acres where the Snake River has carved North America’s deepest canyon.
On
Friday I drove to Nashville, met Buddy at his office near the airport, then we
flew to Boise. Frank met us the airport, and after a beverage stop we stayed at
his place.
Frank packing up.
8-31-96
I
was expecting a hangover, but would have traded that for the pain for the one directly
under my kneecap. Any movement or any weight hurt, but whatever the cause was I
was lucky that it cleared up during the day, and was never a bother on the rest
of the trip. Frank had already bought our food and packed it up, so we were off
early to pick up a raft for Hell Canyon.
We
headed up toward Stanley, where we tried to get a permit to float the Middle
Fork. All permits were taken, and the
river looked low, so we rented an inflatable for me, and floated five miles of
the Salmon River outside of town. It was a flat, easy section, a good maiden
voyage for Frank’s boat, and a good confidence builder for me in the
inflatable. Buddy was an experienced white water paddler, but more familiar
with a canoe in lower flow technical eastern rivers than in a kayak. Frank had
done quite a bit of rafting, while I was the inexperienced one in the water
with only basic, and rusty, river experience.
Next
we drove to the informal Borah Peak Trailhead using what my notes call the Star
(Spar?) Cut-off. Our cutoff didn’t give us chance to stock up on water, we’d be
a bit short for the climb. Our driving route gave us great views of the north
cirque (on the NW side of the peak) of Borah and the entire route we would use
for the climb. We camped in the sagebrush at the trailhead along with 10-12
other parties, all of them planning to hike Borah the next day.
For
state highpointers, Borah is one of the tougher challenges with about 5,500’ of
climb. Though guidebooks rate it as class 2, there are a couple of scramble
sections that others might consider class 3. Either way, it is a long steep
climb.
Salmon River, Stanley, 5 miles
9-1-96
Despite
all the activity yesterday we were up at 6:15, and on the trail early. There
was a well-defined user trail nearly all the way to the summit. The route was
steep, loose, and had some tedious sections of scree. We took about a half hour
to a gully, then another half hour to tree line where we began a long traverse
around the head of the north cirque. The traverse was scenic, and we could see
our entire route laid out ahead, not always a good thing for our confidence.
There is a steep section called Chicken Out Ridge, then a drop to a saddle,
followed by a snow covered ridge (aka the snow bridge). All of that looked intimidating,
as did some sections of a steep dip slope just before the saddle. Luckily, the
steep part was on good rock, some type of carbonate breccia as opposed to the
granite that I was expecting. Most of our climb was on the west and windward
side of the peak, and we were cold all the way up. I guesstimated maybe 50’ of
third class rock at the most. (Summitpost now lists the route as class 3-4).
I
thought the toughest part of the day was the 10 foot down climb into the
saddle. Beyond the saddle the route traverses around a subpeak to the left,
then thrashes through coarse talus to the top. Buddy and I made the top after
3.5 hours. We were the third party of the day. I’d expected quite a challenge
from Borah, and it sure delivered.
Borah
tops the Lost Rivers, a desert range that makes even the White Mountains of
California look lush. I was surprised to find limestone bedrock; some solid
granite would have given us better footing lower down. There’s a tremendous dip
slope (where the topographic surface follows the top of a single angled rock
bed) on another peak to the south and a few lakes on the east side Rock Creek
drainage. I wish my notes described the view more thoroughly, as I took no
slides on the climb, probably leaving my camera behind to save weight (fool!).
The rock here seems either very broken up or very step, it doesn’t look like
the range would have many walkup routes.
Buddy
and I waited 45 minutes on top for Frank (we should not have let the group get
so far apart). Finally, two other climbers told us he was still a ways behind,
so we headed down. Of course, we then saw him about a minute later, and we walked
back up to the top together. The short climb was enough to warm us up again.
The two other climbers gave us some water. We had some store bought lemonade
that was too strong to drink, and needed more water to cut it down to a
drinkable concentration.
The
descent took 4 hours. The talus slopes and a particularly dusty section near
tree line were tedious. Approaching the trailhead, we could see our boat-loaded
truck, a strange site out in the middle of the desert.
This
would be my last major state highpoint, Most of the remaining others were too
far away (AK and HI), or are uninteresting looking drive ups. I would pick up
both Hawkeye Point in Iowa coming back from the Wind Rivers in 1999, and Mt.
Cheaha in Alabama driving down to race in 2000, but otherwise my highpointing
career has been on hold.
Once
back on the road we stopped in Sunbeam to soak in a hot spring, a stop that did
wonders for my tired legs. My knees felt good, but I was very glad I’d carried
just a light pack. Then we headed over to our next stop past Stanley at the
Sawtooth National Recreation Area. We pulled into the Redfish Lodge and had a
great dinner. Frank had been working up there much of the summer on a project
for Hecla, and had already made some friends here. He arranged a boat ride
across Redfish Lake for us, so we hurriedly packed up, climbed in the boat, and
were dropped off at the “transfer station” campground. Since it was another
perfect night (and we were tired) we chose to bivy out in the campground.
Borah Peak, ~14 mi., 12,622’
9-2-96
Surprisingly
we got an early start and followed Trail 101 up to Flatrock Junction, where the
trails to Alpine and Cramer lakes split. Our goal was to get to Upper Redfish
Lakes to position ourselves to climb Reward Peak the next day. Our map showed no trail to Upper
Redfish, so we planned to try for a high traverse from Alpine Lake. 
Frank in the Sawtooth range.
Compared
to the easy trail out from our bivy site, with its spectacular views of Mt
Heyburn and the Saddleback, the long switchbacks past the junction going up to
Alpine Lake were tough. We ate our lunch at Alpine Lake, and then went off
trail, hoping to climb a ridge, traverse, and then drop back down into Upper
Redfish Lakes Basin. From the ridge we could tell the traverse would be tough,
but doable, but after 45 minutes of difficult route finding we came to a steep
gully that we couldn’t enter at our current elevation. We were still close to
the ridgecrest, and reluctant to descend 500’ or so with the crossing
uncertain. So, after much debate, we decided to go back to Alpine Lake. The
clincher for our decision was a reread of the guidebook which described an off
trail path to Upper Redfish Lakes Basin from the Cramer Lake Trail, which we
thought we could do the next day. Why hadn’t we seen that before? Buddy and I
chose to follow the ridge back, and then descend directly to the lake, a trip
which took only an hour and a half. Frank explored a bit higher on the ridge
before going back. 
Redfish Valley.
Though
we were disappointed in both our navigation and our guidebook reading skills,
the episode did give us a chance to hang out in camp and rest. One of the other
guys probably had our guidebook, I had a copy of the Earthwalk map and the
Idaho climbing guide. We’d seen a lot of people hiking out, and shared the lake
with only two other parties. After dinner Frank and I walked around the lake.
Though Frank had lagged a bit on the climb up Borah, on this day he had the
most energy by
far. 
Alpine Lake.
Alpine
Lake, ~9 miles 
Alpine Lake.
9-3-96
We
slept in a bit, finally, with our plan to find the off trail cut off to Upper
Redfish Lakes using the route described in our guide. We hoped to have enough
to time climb Mt. Reward (described as easy class 2 from the basin), and camp
at the lakes. We had to hike back 1.5 miles to Flatrock Junction, and by then
the weather was looking ominous. Things were starting to fall apart. We talked about
heading to Upper Redfish, just going to Cramer Lake, or heading out before
deciding to camp at the Cramer Lakes and hoping to explore that basin if the
weather held. 
Cramer Basin.
That
turned out to be a good decision as we never spotted the start of our off trail
route to Upper Redfish, even though we were fairly sure about where it should
begin. Our skepticism of the weather was confirmed by two guys we met on the
trail who were heading out early. But it turned out all we got was a few
sprinkles, the clouds broke about the time we got to camp. 
Middle Cramer Lake.
From
the Cramer Lakes Buddy and I decided to follow the trail (~2 miles) further to
the pass, then return to camp. A short way in Frank decided he’d rather go back
to the Redfish Lodge and drink beer with some of his buddies from the summer.
But he missed a good hike. The basin was spectacular, encircled by jagged
peaks. The head was filled with wildly jumbled moraines, and the talus slopes
capped with small snowfields. Our campsite sat directly across the lake where
we could watch mounts Sevy, Cramer, and the Arrowhead.
For
our introduction to the Sawtooth Range, we had obviously not planned well
enough. Thus was such a large rugged alpine area that it was hard for me to get
a handle on the hiking opportunities there in such a short visit. This is an
area deserving of more exploration, hopefully I’ll get back some day.
Cramer Lake, ~9.5 miles
9-4-96
Buddy
and I woke up early and had a quick breakfast, hoping to make the 9:30 boat
shuttle across Redfish Lake. It was easy trail back to the lake, and with only
one stop we made the ~ 8 miles in 2.5 hours. It helped that our boat ride was a
little late, Frank had needed to rouse his friend Chris to come and get us.
Sometime that evening Frank had persuaded Chris to join us for our next trip
down Hells Canyon. Our plan was to float the “Wild” section of the river from
the Hells Canyon Dam north to Pittsburg Landing over the next three days. 
Packing for Hells Canyon.
Eager
for the next phase we showered in Redfish, ate in Stanley, and hit the road. On
the way we stopped to check out a hot spring Frank was interested in, and found
it very nice, with just a quick walk to the South Fork of the Payette River. We
drove through McCall, then Cambridge, then called ahead for a shuttle for a
shuttle for the boat trip that would save us several hours. The shuttle would
cover 180 miles.
When
we got to the shuttle point we paid for Chris’s car to be moved also, hoping to
save some more time at the end of the trip. Chris must have decided to bail on
the trip sometime at this stage. He disappears from my notes, and didn’t make
the float trip. The woman at the shuttle service told us to camp 6 miles toward
the dam where the power company had a campground, and we followed that advice.
The campground was nice and grassy and had a flush toilet. There was no camping
at the put in, so 6 miles away was as good as we could get. But we decided to
bivy under clear skies. So, of course, I woke up in the night to Buddy and
Frank trying to set up Frank’s 5-man stand up tent in a lightning storm.
Hells Canyon Dam CG, 8 miles
9-5-93
At
dawn Frank headed into town for more food, while Buddy and I repacked from hiking to boating gear.
It was then a short drive to the put in at the Hells Canyon Creek Recreation
Site (river mile 247.0). We joined a mad frenzy of packing and unpacking
alongside two luxurious guided parties and two other private parties. With all
of this activity we didn’t get on the river until noon. The weather was lousy,
record lows were forecast. Frank opted to have his kayak taken back to
Cambridge by an outfitter. We would still have the raft, and a kayak for Buddy.
There was a slight drizzle when we hit the river. According to our permit, the
river flow was at 7,300 cfs. I kept the detailed river log we had, and managed
to get a fair number of pictures. 
Hells Canyon Dam.
Fittingly,
the canyon proved deep and dark, with lavas, a little grass, and trees confined
to the riverbanks and side canyons. I don’t have much river trip experience (our
trip down the Green River in 1994, being most of that) but this river seemed
more powerful with a lot of rough water not seemingly associated with any
particular rapid. 
Raft on the Snake River.
The
floating was fine until we got to Wild Sheep Rapid near the end of the day.
Wild Sheep is a class 4 rapid with a couple hundred yards of boiling water,
then a wave front that slides to the right. Buddy ran the first part in the
kayak, then then walked the slide on the left. I was nervous about taking it in
the raft, and Frank later said he was surprised I rode it out. I didn’t have
any idea what a class 4 would be like, but knew if I sat that rapid out I might
end up sitting out the next one, and etcetera until I’d missed them all. My
best plan was to hop in the raft and assume Frank knew what he was doing. 
Buddy kayaking on the Snake.
The
boat pulled out and soon we were caught in the power of the main tongue. We hit
some large waves, which rocked the boat, but less so than I expected. Frank
turned the boat, pulled hard to the right, and then we were bouncing through
more slow waves out the end of the rapid. Hey, that was fun, and really not
that scary with Frank at the helm.
We
decided to camp at Upper Granite Creek (River mile 239.7) after a class 4, then
a pair of lesser rapids. Upper Granite was a partly developed site with a lower
cook area and picnic table and an upper sleep area on a bench. With some time
to spare we made the one mile hike to the Hibbs ranch site. Unfortunately, the
trail was choked with poison ivy and sumac, and had a side creek crossing that
got everyone’s feet wet. The site was just a few scattered relics, not nearly
as interesting as Barton Cabin, where we had stopped earlier in the day. The
big surprise was the abundance of bear scat at the side creek. It was enough to
make Frank sleep in the tent. 
Kayak on the Snake River.
Upper Granite Creek Campsite, 7.3 miles
9-6-96
Our
only full day on the river would start with class 4 Granite Rapid, one of the
toughest on the river. But we were able to run both Granite and then the
Bernards (class 2-4) with no trouble. Or at least Frank and Buddy ran them,
while I sat back in the raft. Waterspout, the next rapid was the rough one.
Frank and I pulled over to scout it and then we went downstream to take
pictures of Buddy running it. Unfortunately, Buddy hit a rock not too far into
the rapid, flipped, righted himself, and then turned over again in the next
rough spot. He was able to make one try at rolling back up, then the boat went
left, and he and his paddle stayed near the rocks on the right. Frank and I
finished our pictures, marked his position, then hurried back to the raft. We
ran the rapid, then eddied back up to pick up Buddy. He was OK, mostly cold and
shaken and with a few bumps on his legs. We were lucky nothing worse happened,
we’d gotten careless with a major rapid. This was a rapid where the raft should
have gone first to pick up anyone who might have flipped in a smaller boat.
We
chased the kayak a mile or two downstream through another small rapid before
dropping Buddy off, while we chased his paddle, which he had feared to be lost.
Buddy had his confidence back when we finally regrouped, vowing to be more
careful.
Later
in the day I took the kayak for a short stretch. It was an uncomfortable fit
for me. The kayak felt tippy in the small boils that I paddled, and I doubted I
could control it in rougher water. I felt wedged in the boat and wasn’t sure I
could bail out quickly if needed. With some rapids always in sight I returned
to the kayak, but I did row the raft some. Frank showed me how to angle the
rear of the boat away from the rocks, and then let the boat drift as close as
possible to them, so that I could easily pull away if needed. I only tried
rowing through one small rapid, grazing only one rock. Later Frank did hit one
rock dead center, but we did not get hung up.
Later
I rode in the bow to get more height as we climbed waves in the rapids. I was
by then over my fear of the small waves and rapids. Overall, we made good time
with fast water and the wind at our backs. We’d seen hawks/eagles, deer, and a
fair number of other birds. Some of the prairie around us had burned, but the
rest was golden brown and pretty in the evening light.
With
the river getting more crowded downstream, we chose to camp at Half Moon Bar
because it was smaller site, and we hoped we could have it to ourselves. With
such a long day on the river we barely had time in camp to cook and set up.
Half Moon was a pretty site, but infested with spiders. We had at least four
spiders lay eggs in our gear overnight.
Hell Canyon, Half Moon Bar CS, 18.1 miles
9-7-96
For
the last day’s float, we made only one stop. Kirkland Ranch had a fine museum
of life in the canyon in the early 1900’s, and the caretaker was there to tell
us how the government had screwed it all up. At one time Kirkland was called
the most isolated ranch in the America.
There
was only one large rapid on the last section, but there were also a bunch of
small fun ones. I rowed around the best wave by mistake, I thought Frank was
pointing out a rock rather than the wave. He had climbed into the bow and was
hoping to break my wave riding height record.
Frank
and I pulled the raft off at Upper Pittsburg, while Buddy rode the faster kayak
to Pittsburg Landing and retrieved the car. Frank and I had finished unloading
and were getting ready to worry when Buddy arrived with the car. We did our
final repacking of gear, then drove to Cambridge to pick up Frank’s kayak, and
made it to Boise in time for pizza and a soak in the hot tub.
Hell Canyon, Half Moon Bar CS to Pittsburg Landing, 5.3 miles
For
Buddy and I, and all the friends who had joined us, this would be the last of
our long trips together. With all of us married, most of us with kids, and all
of us busy at work, it was just too tough to put together a group trip every
year. But we would, and still do, get together for short trips closer to home.
Jean
and I would spend our next few long trips in the Black Hills, working on a
revision to my trail guide for that area which never made it to publication. We
would then take long backpack trips to the Sierras, Bighorns, Wind Rivers, Grand
Canyon, and the Maah Daah Hey Trail in the next few years before we had another
hiatus in the mid 2000’s. When we were able to resume long vacations again we
changed our style a bit, focusing on national parks and hiking a mix of day
hikes and shorter backpacking trips.
