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Gourmet Gorging - Rafting the Bruneau in Idaho
Gourmet Gorging – Rafting The Bruneau in Idaho
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When you look across the vast sagebrush prairie of southwestern Idaho, the Bruneau River Gorge looks like a small arroyo in the distance. From the floor of that gorge, however, the world looks stunningly different. The red-brown horizon is almost directly above you, so steep are the towering cliffs carved out by the river. By the way, don't stare upward too long, or that big wave in the rapids directly ahead will tip you out of your raft for a nice, uh, invigorating swim.
This ribbon of snowmelt, fed by the smaller Jarbidge River upstream, flows through the southwest corner of the Gem State. Wilderness River Outfitters operates trips on these and many other rivers worldwide, although their home base is on the beautiful Salmon River in east-central Idaho. Joe Tonsmeire, a soft-spoken cowboy with a bushy grey mustache, has been guiding here with his wife Fran for 33 years, and they clearly love what they do.
Our adventure began in Boise, a pleasant capital city with its own scenic river. After a trip briefing and introductions all around, guides and guests went to a local brewpub restaurant for steaks and marionberry cobbler. One river guide, Kyle, collected on a wager: Tom, another guide, had bet that they couldn't fit all of their gear into the pickup truck before a previous river trip. Sounds more fun than video poker...
Speaking of trucks, Joe told us a tale from a past trip: the dirt road climbing out of the Owyhee River Gorge is so steep and rough that the rear axle in one truck completely stripped its gears, and the vehicle had to be towed out of the canyon. Trips like this are tough on vehicles. The story was evidently well known in the town of Mountain Home, where we stopped for gas and a stretch during the six-hour trip to our put-in point. The man at the register asked, with a knowing chuckle, how the truck was doing. Kyle reassured us that Joe had seen every kind of unplanned event in his time, and I joked about jinxing our group by saying, "Great! Nothing can happen to us, then."
The spring sunshine warmed our shoulders as we waited by the gravel road for the other pickup truck to come to our rescue. Two simultaneous flat tires - what are the odds? Our driver Brad, an experienced wilderness survival instructor, helped pass the time by showing us how to start a campfire without matches. We hoped this wasn't an indication of how long we might be here. Brad was here to deliver the Suburban to the take-out point after we had unloaded it at the put-in. Soon the replacement pickup arrived, equipment and supplies were transferred, and as we got moving again, we elected to speak no more about unplanned events.
I like this group! Bill and Jim, businessmen from Boise and Seattle, respectively,
are brothers who enjoy hunting and rafting trips whenever they can get together. Anna, a nurse from California, had rafted with WRO the previous year and proved to be an experienced paddler with a wry sense of humor. Clint, a baker from Sun Valley, Idaho, displayed great skill with a Dutch oven as well as with a paddle.
Things aren't always what they seem. Tom explained that the pronghorn antelope grazing on the sage by the road weren't true antelope but were a different species. In fact, the sage they were nibbling wasn't the same as the sage with which we flavor our food. Pioneers had named the plant after deciding it reminded them of the European sage that is used as a seasoning. Tom went on to say that the meadowlarks we saw were not true larks, either. Is nothing sacred? Next someone will tell me that Douglas Fir isn't a true fir! Guess I'd better not open that "field guide to trees" on my bookshelf.
The last mile or so down into the canyon was so steep and rough that it was more comfortable (and faster) for the passengers to get out and walk. At Indian Hot Springs, the small stream that issues from the steep bank is spanned by a small wooden footbridge, and with good reason: if you tried wading it, you'd parboil your feet. The spring raised the river temperature just a skosh at our put-in, and that's a good thing. (Remember the term "snowmelt?") Full of turkey burritos, we inflated the rafts and paddled out into the current. For this trip we had four boats: one raft propelled by four paddlers, two rafts rowed by guides using long oars, and an inflatable kayak, which I paddled today. Its maneuverability makes it a lot of fun, although the smaller size of the craft renders it more vulnerable to big rapids.
The gorge soon narrowed into a stunning slot canyon, and we hit our first major rapids. Submerged rocks in the stream are an ever-present hazard, and one raft got hung up briefly before its driver freed it. As the sun sank in the west, we stopped to gather firewood for the evening's cooking. The Bruneau is not heavily used due to its inaccessibility, so wood was plentiful. Farther downstream we stopped at a nice grassy spot with fragrant juniper trees. The cliff behind provided a good vantage point for a photograph, and soon we were casually talking politics over fresh grilled salmon and fruit salad. Kyle's Dutch-oven pineapple upside-down cake was perfect. He told us how on one trip a guide had proudly flipped his Dutch oven over onto the tabletop, only to discover he had picked up the wrong one. Tamale pie is a little too liquid to be served that way.
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By Robert LaGrone, Las Vegas Correspondent, Jetsetters Magazine at www.jetsettersmagazine.com
About the Author
Robert LaGrone, Jetsetters Magazine Correspondent. Join the Travel Writers Network in the logo at www.jetsettersmagazine.com
