Rafting the River of No Return

“They stop asking so many questions and become more, ‘there’,” said Dan Biegert, a lead guide with OARS—one of a handful of outfitters offering multi-day, all-inclusive trips—as he paddled a calm stretch of the Salmon River, framed by towering canyon walls.

“You also see it in the way people socialize… they let their guard down a lot on night three. I see people being willing to listen to others and also be willing to share their own experiences. I think on this trip I noticed it a little earlier. Morning three, at breakfast.”

Twenty of us, plus six guides, were on day four of a six-day, 120-kilometre journey down the Main section of the Salmon, also known as the River of No Return. The name has roots in the days of early prospectors and homesteaders, who would ride horses or mules to communities upriver, then sell the animals to buy supplies, floating back down on rafts they would later dismantle for building materials.

What was once a one-way, life-threatening trip made out of necessity is now a bucket-list adventure for thrill-seekers.

Stretching nearly 700 kilometres, the Salmon River is the longest free-flowing, undammed waterway in the lower 48 states, cutting through the heart of the 2.3-million-acre Frank Church Wilderness Area, one of the largest protected wilderness areas in North America.

A moment of tranquility amidst the rugged adventure of the River of No Return.

With a drop of 2,100 metres, it’s considered one of the top whitewater rafting routes in the world. We set out in late August, tackling Class II and Class III rapids, with calm stretches in between that gave us time to soak in the stunning scenery. For those wanting bigger water, the Middle Fork section earlier in the season is the way to go.  Peak flows are in May and June, with trips running through mid-September.

Our adventure began in McCall, a small resort town on Payette Lake, about two hours north of Boise. Nearing or just past our 50th birthdays, three friends and I were the only Canadians in the group. The rest hailed from places like Massachusetts, Oregon, Montana, and New York.

After meeting and going over safety basics, we climbed into small planes—a Cessna 206 for me—for a short flight to the town of Salmon, followed by a bus ride to Corn Creek, where our journey would begin.

There, we met the rest of our guides: Matt and Louisa (a married couple) along with Dan, James, and Kirby - our fearless leaders, cooks, and caretakers for the trip.

Their experience was invaluable, not only navigating the river but also teaching us about the land and how to protect it.

The backcountry runs on a Leave No Trace mentality, and even the number of people rafting this section of river is tightly controlled by the U.S. Forest Service.

Dan Biegert with OARS guides the group through the rapids of the river.

Our fleet of six inflatable rafts ranged from a 14-foot paddle boat to an 18-foot ‘bag boat’ loaded with gear. We also had a few inflatable kayaks for those brave enough to get up-close with the rapids.

The setup was all-inclusive; guests are provided three meals a day, along with a tent, air mattress and sleeping bag.  While we set up our tents each night, the guides took care of pretty much everything else, allowing us to enjoy the experience without all the work.

Mornings began early, with hot coffee and a hearty breakfast—think pancakes, hashbrowns, and made-to-order omelettes. After packing up, we’d hit the river, navigating rapids and cruising serene stretches until lunch. Covering about 10 to 15 kilometres a day, camp was made along the riverbank each evening.

Dinners felt like feasts and the nights were perfect for storytelling around a fire, or soaking in the serene setting with some stargazing, before heading to our tents feeling challenged but not entirely exhausted.

The days weren’t just about rafting. Each afternoon held a new adventure: hiking to a grove of yew trees, exploring Indigenous hieroglyphics or soaking in natural hot springs.

A personal highlight was a visit to the homestead of Sylvan Ambrose Hart, better known as Buckskin Bill, who thrived in the area from the 1930s until his death in 1980.

Ancient pictographs at the Middle Fork of the Salmon River.

One of the most powerful moments came from guide Matt, who has Indigenous heritage and shared with us some traditional wisdom that had been passed down to him.

“I’ve always been told, ‘Your ancestors love you, that’s why they left these markings,’” he said while we visited a cliff face adorned hundreds of years before with etchings made of red ochre.

By the time we reached our pull-out spot near the town of Riggins, we were sun-kissed, windblown and a little sore, but each of us felt the same; it may be called the River of No Return, but there’s no doubt we’ll be back.