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Tag: snake river

Hell Hike and Raft: Camp Life
Now that you’ve read about the hiking (Part 1, Part 2, Part 3) and rafting of the Hell Hike and Raft, I thought it would be fun to share what camp life was like. As much fun as the hiking and rafting were, camp life was equally entertaining and a big portion of what made this adventure so wonderful.
So here’s some insight into what it’s like to head into the backcountry with America’s Rafting Company.
Camping…
Camp locations varied widely from cozy spots where our tents and sleeping bags were nestled closely together to wide open places where the crew spread out. From our first night next to Shelf Lake to the babbling creek at Hibbs Cow Camp to the beaches and cliffs along the Snake, all of our sites had us perched near the soothing sounds of water. In spite of that common thread, each night’s camp was vastly different, giving us a new taste of Idaho with each stop.
Camp at Shelf Lake.
Our time in the Seven Devils was on the chilly side so I opted for tent camping those nights. That didn’t entirely keep this southern girl from freezing but it helped. The glorious Idaho weather did get the best of me, however, and made cowboy camping very appealing while at lower elevations along the river.
Unlike the deep south that I call home, there weren’t really any critters to contend with (aside from a close encounter with a skunk at dinner one evening that didn’t end well for Scout the River Dog…) so falling asleep under the stars was nothing short of magical. And with the aid of rafts, we had the 3-inch thick sleeping pads provided by ARC to rest our weary bodies on. That’s the backcountry version of a down-pillow mattress and they were glorious in comparison to my puny backpacking pad.
In terms of a guided trip, other than tending to our own sleeping arrangements, we didn’t have many other responsibilities. We did help help where we could, particularly with hauling gear on and off the rafts, but it felt odd, especially for the parents in the group, to be catered to instead of having to so the care-taking. By the end of the trip we’d gotten all to used to that treatment. I certainly didn’t want it to end.
Now you may be wondering about the bathroom situation. For the hiking portion, we employed standard backpacking procedures which means every man and woman for his or herself in digging cat-holes. But for the rafting part of the trip, having a gigantic boat to carry gear means we had a portable setup to use that was tucked on the outskirts of camp with a paddle as a bathroom door to let others know if it was in use or not. Let’s just say no matter where you are on the Snake, it’s the most scenic rest stop you’ll ever have.
My crewmates quickly figured out that coffee delivered to my “doorstep” prevented my morning grumpies. Well, mostly.
A long-lost watch at camp met it’s demise for the unexpected interruption.
The fetchinest dog ever and fun addition to camp… Tubbs.
The most epic pit stop ever.
The extra-thick sleeping pads were luxurious compared to our backpacking mats.
Food
The Hell Hike and Raft crew came for the adventure of the expedition… the hiking, rafting, exploring the back-country of Idaho, and bonding with fellow outdoor-blogger-types. What we didn’t really count on was eating like royalty. America’s Rafting Company provided fabulous grub, so much so that we started to wonder what the next meal would be, even while still in the midst of one.
Even for the backpacking days, food brought in by horses meant not having to resort to less-than-gourmet backcountry staples. Fajitas, omelets, and Fishpeople Seafood were among the choice fare in the Seven Devils. For the rafting section, we even had tables, chairs, and beer to go with our mouth-watering appetizers and hearty ARC meals… all while dining on the banks of the Snake.
And being that cooking was the domain of our hosts, the fact that all of the fabulous food was served up without have to prepare it may have been one of the most epic aspects of this adventure for me. I wasn’t kidding when I called this a dirtbag cruise.
Seriously… bacon, french toast, eggs, fresh fruit. While on a beach of the Snake River.
Seriously y’all, the food…
Five-star dining, America’s Rafting Company style.
The crew enjoying their Fishpeople Seafood.
Marshall and Rick prepping our first night’s dinner. We had no idea this was the tip of the food iceberg.
The flagship beverage of the rafting portion of the trip.
It comes down to people…
The truth is that for all of the amazing experiences hiking, rafting, and let’s be honest… eating, having the opportunity to hang out with great people is really where the sweet spot lies.
The heart and soul of America’s Rafting Company. I want Parker and Becky to adopt me. They’re awesome.
And throw a bunch of outdoors-people from different walks of life into the Idaho backcountry with ages spanning three decades and you’re bound to get the makings of a comedy. Indeed no one held back being their true selves. Our crew now has so many inside jokes, we’ll carry the bonds of this trip with us forever. Plus, after spending 6 days in the backcountry and having to deal with the realities of backcountry hygiene, we’re all just one big family now.
Aside from my wonderfully quirky, fabulous crew mates, we had the benefit of charismatic, energetic guides. We Hell Hike and Rafters are a colorful bunch but the America’s Rafting Company team gave us a run for our money. Full of energy and local knowledge, they kept us entertained and helped us understand their stomping ground. For the engaged travelers that we adventurer-types tend to be, that’s what connects us to the journey and place. Parker and Becky are nothing short of delightful and I’d join them for another adventure again in a heartbeat.
Campfire bonding.
Marshall regaling us with stories about the Seven Devils.
In between laughter and crew antics, there was time to be amazed at the beauty of Hell’s Canyon.
Coming up…
That’s about it for the journey of the Hell Hike and Raft. More reviews of gear to come.
In the meantime, enjoy this little compilation slideshow of camp life and don’t forget you can find all of my Hell Hike and Raft images on Flickr.

And now for your moment of green…
Water is life but it is also delight. The crystal clear, cold streams of Idaho were a constant companion on the Hell Hike and Raft.
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March 12, 2015
Hell Hike and Raft: The Snake River
In the last Hell Hike and Raft episode I mentioned that after the brutal third day of hiking, the waters of the Snake River were more than comforting, they were rejuvenating. We embraced the new rhythm of the trip but it was an abrupt change from the challenge of the hike to floating down the river, basically in the lap of luxury.
Unlike the drama of the hiking portion of the adventure, the rafting was much more mellow, punctuated by the brief excitement of rapids and stops at historical sites.
The Wild and Scenic Snake River…
Hell’s Canyon…
Dropping over 6,000 feet in six miles as we trekked out of the Seven Devils and into Hell’s Canyon, the surroundings were dramatically different. On the banks of the Snake River, we were nestled in the grassy, rolling slopes, a stark contrast to the jagged peaks of the Seven Devils.
Hell’s Canyon is the deepest gorge in the U.S. Yes, deeper than the Grand Canyon. It’s not a showy canyon, though. Formed from various phases of lava flows, uplift, and erosion, it’s beauty is more subtle than its cousin to the south. From its headwaters in Yellowstone National Park, the Snake meanders over 1,000 miles through six states before joining the Columbia River in Washington State. For kicks and giggles, check out this graph of Hell’s Canyon compared to the Grand Canyon, the Washington Monument, and the Empire State Building.
The Hell Hike and Raft crew dwarfed by Hell’s Canyon.
Rafting the Snake River…
I haven’t done whitewater, well… in quite awhile. Maybe twenty years, I think. And being a southern girl, our whitewater is considerably different. Southern rivers have a lot to offer in terms of excitement and exhilarating rapids but I wasn’t prepared for the scale of the Snake. The volume of the river is simply so much larger than anything I’ve experienced in the southeast.
Our America’s Rafting Company flotilla for the rafting portion of the Hell Hike and Raft consisted of a giant gear boat, an oar boat, and a paddling raft. Attached to the gear boat was an inflatable kayak as well as a paddle board for the crew to mix up the river experience. Throughout our days on the river, the crew migrated between boats to get the full variety of whitewater experience. Given that I couldn’t hold a paddle because of my hand injury, I had to opt out of joining the paddling raft or hopping into the kayak so my time was split between the gear boat and oar boat. And it was still great.
The paddle and oar boats heading into the first major rapid on the Hell Hike and Raft.
Directly out of camp on our first rafting day, we faced our biggest rapid. Adam, Scott, and I perched on an overlook to capture the crew as they tackled it before rejoining the gear boat for our own descent. It was fabulous to watch our crewmates faces as they worked their way through the whitewater. For us on the big, heavy gear boat, we didn’t get jostled quite as much.
A little later on, we got to watch as our guide, Rick, took the paddle boat through a rapid and “dump-trucked” the crew through a feisty rapid. There are very real dangers when that happens, but after the initial concern and all the crew was retrieved safely, everyone set to teasing Rick for his rafting prowess… or lack thereof in this instance.
Through rapids and slackwater, we all got to understand the Snake River. We spent our days floating along drinking beer with great people, our time occasionally punctuated by the thrill of rapids. In contrast to the demands of the hike, it was basically like being on the dirtbag version of a cruise. It was awesome.
As we made our way to the lower reaches, we began running into more and more jet boats and had to deal with jostling in their wake. Some were considerate and slowed appropriately, others not as much. Most of the wildlife decided to play shy while we were there but we were treated to watching a herd of mule deer drinking along the river just before we reached our takeout point.
Parker of America’s Rafting Company guiding part of our motley crew in the paddle boat.
Scott living large on the gear boat.
Scout, the epic river dog, added much charm to our journey.
America’s Rafting Company’s Becky takes a few of the Hell Hike and Raft crew through a rapid in the oar boat.
Tara and Jes working the inflatable kayak.
Four stooges drinking beer in the river during a break.
Becky getting her zen groove on with the paddle board.
History…
The Hell’s Canyon wilderness area straddles the Oregon/Idaho border and is rich in history as we soon found out. In addition to the camaraderie built around the rafting, our trip featured stops at a few of the multitude of historical camps along the river. And this is where my crewmates got to see me turn into a history dork rather than a geology dork.
We got to stop at a few along the way and learn about the people who have been the stewards of this canyon over the last century or so. The most notable of the camps, Kirkwood Ranch, provided the biggest insight since it is maintained as a historic site with year-round volunteers and a small museum. The volunteers step back in time to a life without an outside connection other than visitors like us, much like the families who lived here beginning in the 1930s. The museum here is a wonderful snapshot of life was like during that time. If you find yourself in Hell’s Canyon, do yourself a favor and take the time to soak in the history at Kirkwood.
The Sterling Cabin now serves as a mini museum at the Kirkwood Ranch.
One of the historic cabins along the river. Vintage newspapers line the walls, a snapshot of a very different time.
Relics of the past put a personal spin of life on the Snake.
The geology dork in me got very excited about seeing core samples. And very disheartened by realizing how close the Snake came to being dammed.
Artifacts at Kirkwood Ranch.
A feisty visitor at the Kirkwood Ranch.
Roundup…
And after six days in the backcountry of Idaho, our Hell Hike and Raft time came to a gentle close as we floated to the landing to pull the boats out of the water and head back to town. There’s more to come, though. I’ve barely scratched the surface of reviews and camp life. Stay tuned.
Parker guiding the gear boat onto the trailer at the take-out.
Scott giving Tara a congratulatory post-trip “tattoo” while we awaited our ride back to town.
The dirty, stinky Hell Hike and Raft crew on the way back to New Meadows.
Back in New Meadows, we had our last PBRs and paid tribute to our much-missed crew members who couldn’t make the trip.
In keeping with the other videos of the Hell Hike and Raft trip, here’s a slideshow of the rafting portion of the trip. Enjoy!

http://youtu.be/24G9IRdtjBg
And don’t forget all of my images from the Hell Hike and Raft can be found on Flickr.
And now for your moment of green…
Our last view of the Snake before our epic adventure came to and end.

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February 17, 2015
Hell Hike and Raft: The Seven Devils – Part 3
Remember how I said that on Day 2 I began loving this journey? Well on Day 3, we finally found out what the “hell” part of the Hell Hike and Raft was all about.
Frozen…
We awoke to freezing temperatures. Being from the Deep South, it’s not something I’m accustomed to dealing with often and to such extremes. With frigid hands, I muddled my way through breakfast and breaking camp.
The Hell Hike and Raft crew bidding farewell to Tubbs the Adventure Dog.
This morning’s pack up was different from the previous night’s. We’d be saying goodbye to John and the horses which meant we needed to pack our tents on our backs for this leg of the journey. We got to abandon our sleeping pads though since on the rafting portion we’d have thick, (relatively) luxurious rafting pads to sleep on.
This significant change in gear meant reconfiguring my packing strategy. And even though our Teton Sports packs were very groovy indeed, I realized later in the day I’d packed things far too lopsided and it caught up with me as I found myself listing to port the whole day. Which is not what you want on a massive descent. But by the time the realization hit me, I was beyond caring…
But let me back up a little.
Annie was smitten with the pack horses.
All downhill from here…
It was to be our last day of hiking before meeting the rafts on the Snake. The exit from Hibbs Cow Camp to our intended camp on the river meant a brutal day of 6,000 feet elevation loss over about 6 miles. And on trails that hadn’t been hiked in something like 20 years.
Annie enjoying the waterfall view… until we realized we had to make the descent, a river crossing, and another short uphill climb, only to start going down again.
We scrambled over and under logs, along loose gravel and rocks, and steep slopes that were not for the faint-of-heart. Down, down, and more down. Constantly, for hours on end, bracing our bodies and heavy packs against gravity and loose footing.
And then there were the water crossings. I lost count. I took great pains early on to keep my boots dry. By the last one I gave up and just plowed through, letting the cold water flood my boots, a temporary relief for aching feet like an ice pack. Exhaustion ruled so walking on squishy boots from that point on seemed the least of my troubles.
It was an unforgiving route. It was hell. None of us felt like taking pictures. We plodded along with legs like jelly. Yet it was beautiful. And the company top-notch. A very odd dichotomy to find ourselves in. Solidarity kept us moving forward.
The group seemed more spread out than over the past two days with the fitter, younger, and less injured folks setting a better pace than the rest of us. Marshall had to abandon us part-way, picking up the pace so he would make it to the boat take out in time to catch his ride. That left us under the guidance of Rick. And given that these trails were not well-used, there was some discussion and uncertainty as to which trails were the ones we were to follow. Our Hell Hike and Raft crew was a sort of hiking guinea pig for this route. Fortunately map skills prevailed and we managed to keep ourselves on track.
By the last mile, the terrain flattened out and our journey became a matter of getting to camp on legs like noodles and feet tender as raw hamburger. The foliage became more lush as we neared the water as you can imagine. The change of scenery helped me refocus on why I came here and that I wanted to take in every glorious moment, not be bogged down in pain. And as we got closer, there were more and more bear signs of the scat variety and bedding areas. It was intimidating. Let me tell you, that will get your attention off of sore feet and legs…
Pushing physical limits…
As problematic and sore as my knees can get, I’ve never worried about them giving out entirely before. On this descent, I started to worry. Seriously. Each step became a dance with tenderness and my feet joined the choir of protest early on. My mangled toe and sesamoid bone were done. Try as I might to adjust my boot laces, I couldn’t relieve the pressure on them. I had to simply plow on one tender step at a time.
Was the hiking glass half full or empty? Only one mile left… or still one mile left on painfully tired feet and legs.
It was on this day I wished I’d brought both trekking poles. I set out with only one knowing I wouldn’t be able to hold one in my right hand for very long. On this day, I would have taken the pain in my hand for the relief and stability that extra pole would have provided because in addition to painful feet, each step had to be carefully placed to keep from slipping. And indeed I landed on my rear several times on the descent.
The bulk of our steps, for six miles, was bracing against the loose, steep slopes with ungainly forty pound packs strapped to our bodies. In addition to the complications of my feet, the brutal nature of this route meant my thighs and glutes were screaming, too. Today’s journey was about the challenge; pushing my personal limits and finding ways to get past the mental barriers that wanted to keep me focused on the discomfort and pain. At one point I confessed to Adam one of my techniques… singing saucy Monty Python songs quietly to myself to stay in my happy place. That seemed to amuse him, although it didn’t surprise him. 😉
Lioness Tara resting on the brutal downhill of the last day.
The Snake…
I’ve wanted to see the Snake River for as long as I can remember. I never imagined I would be exhausted and in great pain during my very first glimpse of it, though. I was in hiker death march mode, focused on the promise of being able to collapse once I got camp set up.
Can’t beat this camp. Good food. Good friends. Amazing views.
By the time we arrived, I almost couldn’t wrap my head around making camp. The mental challenge of getting through the day had taken it’s toll. Fortunately auto-pilot took over to some extent and I muddled my way through it. I set to the task right away, knowing that if I took a break I wouldn’t be able to muster enough energy to do it later.
We pitched our tents on the cliff overlooking the Snake so I had yet to see the swanky America’s Rafting Company kitchen set-up down by the river. Once I finished settling into my tent, I grabbed my camera and GorillaPod and mozied my way down to the river on protesting feet.
I’d only briefly gotten to say hello to Wendy, my fellow southern girl, who was only able to join us for the rafting portion of the trip. So it caught a little off-guard when I set my coat and tripod on the table next to her and she gave me a quizzical look and asked “Is that your vibrator?” I laughed, gave her a high five and said “Darlin’, we are going to get along just fine.” Of course, I did set her straight that I don’t generally pack that kind of equipment out during a backcountry trip.
And with laughter and relief, we all set to enjoying our first night on the Snake with a healthy stock of PBR, great cooking by the America’s Rafting Company crew, and frolicking in the rejuvenating water.
The Hell Hike and Raft crew spent a good bit of time being charmed by the Snake.
Mileage…
Our actual distance was far less than was originally anticipated for the trip. And that’s a good thing given the terrain and time it took us to even do what we did. It’s one thing to do a long, difficult hike for one day. Three days in a row is another story. Missouri Howell was our enthusiastic cartographer for this expedition and came up with these numbers and map for us (with my commentary for added color):
- Day 1 – red: 4.39 miles, 1,657′ gain: In spite of what appears to be a low-mileage day, it was loaded with a big dose of up and down over challenging terrain but totally doable when you’re on Day 1 and amped up for the adventure.
- Day 2 – blue: 6.60 miles, 2,280′ gain: Nice day. Big views. Challenging but achievable terrain, distance, and elevation changes. Yeehaw, right?
- Day 3 – black: 5.67 miles, 6,280′ loss: Idaho, it’s a good thing you’re beautiful because that hike was indeed hell.
The Hell Hike and Raft route through the Seven Devils. If you know anything about topo maps, have a gander at Day 3. Boy howdy, that’s crossing a LOT of contour lines. Big love to Missouri Howell for the map.
The big picture in undertaking a hike like this is that the pain does fade. And the triumph and accomplishment remains. So yes, in spite of the pain, I would do it again in a heartbeat.
For your viewing pleasure…
To recap the hiking portion of the trip, here’s a short slideshow of our time in the Seven Devils…

For the Hell Hike and Raft full monty according to Val, head over to my Flickr album of the adventure.
And now for your moment of green…
The view of the Snake River from our tents. Yep, that was worth the misery…

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December 17, 2014