From the rim of a remote canyon in British Columbia, Gary and I peered down in anticipation. It was pristine, mysterious, and alluring. We had arrived on a whim, picking the blankest-looking spot on the map. We had little information about the river, no hope of finding a shuttle, and not nearly enough time to float the 30 or so miles. (Gary had to be back in Missoula for a meeting in three days.) That night at camp, we repeatedly thought it through, each time reaching the same logical conclusion: Floating the river on this trip was out of the question. At best it would make a good dream, perhaps a future trip.
But like the rock eroding on the river banks, our logic became sculpted and worn by the river's flow. The next morning, driving the logging road, each time we passed close enough to the gorge to get a glimpse, another bit of logical hesitation was carved off, until finally the entire mass was undermined, sheared off, fell away, and vanished in the current. We'd become intrigued. We were determined. We would make it work, somehow. The gorge had pulled us in.
Here are Gary's story and photos of the trip.
We also floated the
Elk River.
Here are some photos from a trip to the Naknek River in June, 1999. The Naknek is a big Alaskan river at the mouth of one of the world's most productive salmon spawning drainages. June is when juvenile sockeye salmon smolt migrate out to sea by the millions. Large rainbow trout try to get larger, by feeding on the smolt as they swim down river.