Ride the Wave

WHAM! THE WAVE SLAPPED MY FACE with an icy hand, triggering a rush of adrenaline. With that bracing prelude, the watery roller-coaster ride down Idaho’s Salmon River near Stanley began. A sharp intake of breath and I was back to paddling.

Put a pin in the map about 60 miles north of Sun Valley, a scenic drive over Galena Summit to the junction of state highways 21 and 75. There you’ll and Stanley, ground zero for whitewater rafting, heart of the Sawtooth National Recreation Area. Pine- and  r-covered peaks frame a massive trough of lush green plains teeming with wildlife and hay fields. A river runs through it, glinting, sparkling, frothing. My visits inevitably start with awe at the setting and conclude with a sigh and a smile.

Everyone should experience the weird and wonderful mélange of fear (a bit), adrenaline (a lot) and sheer joy (inestimable) that comes from the Salmon’s renowned thrill ride. You’ll get wet. You might be cold. But the mix of rubber raft and whitewater fuels an internal fire. Like our raft, I ping-ponged from elation to dread, quiet fist bumps to white-knuckle moments as I teamed with raft-mates to battle Class III rapids and then howl at the cliffs in celebration.

It’s no wonder that the Stanley reach of the Salmon is one of American rafting’s great destinations. Its downstream reach bears the foreboding name River of No Return. Remote and wild, yet still easy to access, the Salmon’s waters created the second-deepest canyon in North America, and are tributary to the largest on its sister river, the Snake. There’s a challenge to be mastered here, and I acquired the eye of a pirate captain navigating these waters. The river beckons with beauty and wonder, prompting introspection. You might spy deer sipping in the shallows. You’ll drift pools where the only sound is your heart beating. Of course, you might bounce out and ride the next rapid up-close and personal, adding spice to the whitewater soup.

No worries, though. Our competent guides issued helmets, life jackets and plenty of safety precautions. They showed us the best swimming spots. At lunch, some dug bare toes in warm sand, others learned the history of the river, from nomadic tribes to ranch life. Even teamaverse rafters were assimilated, disparate individuals working as one to navigate boulder fields and shoot through rocky slots barely one raft wide. The camaraderie comes, in part, from our natural tendency to form bonds. And it’s part self-defense. A wrong move may lead to an involuntary swim, so everyone collaborates, and you stay aboard. (Mostly. There is nothing more life-affirming than climbing back into the raft after a dunking.)

I’ve come to love rafting Stanley for its stunning natural wonders, low-key spring break feel and the chance to connect with the outdoor world in a new and different way. I’ve watched families set off on splash-and-giggle trips when we were gearing up for Class IV rapids and high adventure. There are even sedate lunch-break drifts for romantics, all within minutes of Stanley. Meet up in town, take a shuttle to the launch site and start paddling.

Ultimately, it boils down to one thing (pun intended). The Salmon’s ever-changing current transports you to a higher level of awareness. After bucking a chain of rapids, skies are bluer, water is colder and every breath is deep, sweet with pine and at risk of being taken by the scenery. The river’s many moods can unleash a flood of adrenaline, followed immediately by an eagle’s majestic dive, followed by a float over a pool so clear you think you’re flying on a magic carpet. But you don’t let down your guard. Around the bend lies another bouncy castle of rapids.

In retelling these voyages, the hair on the back of my neck still stands up. I’ll describe in hushed tones and hoarse shouts the ups and downs of a wet, watery ride, taken out (literally and figuratively) spent and breathless … just as I did at the end of my river drift.