MIddle Fork Salmon Shovel Brigade

That's right. We opened the pass. By hand when the USFS said no machinery allowed. And the others said you will never make it. They said there was a big, big slide looking like a porcupine so many logs sticking out of it. Never say never. With the help of a dozen folks, and even some folks from another trip going in two days after us, we did it. And I'm getting ready to prep the bill to the USFS for our work.
It seems in past years the USFS would grant the Outfitters the chance to plow if they forked over a $1000 bond. Not this year. No sir ree bob! We've got ourselves a new District Ranger and a new road engineer on this here USFS District. And there seems no bounds to lack of common sense.
Instead of plowing, dozens of trips dangerously undertook running Marsh Creek to enter the MIddle Fork Salmon. And Outfitters with clients were forced to pay an additional average of $2400 to $3000 to fly in their clients and gear to Indian Creek. All because the USFS wouldn't plow what amounted to about 75 yards of road. Give me a break! The National Park Service routinely plows open roads in late May to Glacier and Yellowstone so visitors can get in.
When one considers how coveted and hard it is to get a permit on the Middle Fork Salmon one would think the USFS would make the effort to plow the road. Yes, it was a big snow year, but contrary to popular pundits, most all that snow was already gone on June 14 with the notable exception of a couple of drifted in areas.

This river trip was amongst the best river trips I've done. The only one that even comes close to topping it was my Grand Canyon trips with Johnny Montezuma, Bryan T Brown and the cast of miscreants and dirtbag boaters in the 1980's that I ran with alot.
We ate great meals every night. We never got out of camp before 1 except the last day at about 11. We often ate dinner in the dark with the lantern going, a crackling fire and awesome meals like ahi tuna, pork tenderloin, chicken curry, beef tenderloin steaks, and chile rellenos. We didn't run out of beer or anything else for that matter.
Spunky the Funky Monkey came on the trip for our party night and soon became the beloved mascot of the trip. When you travel for 7 days with 18 people you really get to know folks. This group covered the range of sublime to ridiculous. We had it all from age 23 to 65 and I am happy to say that I now feel comfortable passing the torch to the younger boating and river generation if these whippersnappers are what's out there.
The trip did not go off without a few glitches. I sprained my ankle at the put in at Boundary Creek the first day moving gear to load. It's still swollen and healing. Two days later I got whacked in the nose when my friends knee hit the oar and had the Mt Vesuvius of nose bleeds at the pull in at Marble Creek. I'm still sporting minor remnants of a purple eye that would have rivaled any makeup work by Tammy Faye Baker. One boatman flipped at Velvet. The flip broke welds in his frame but we cobbled it together with boat straps.
We had rain, sleet, snow, grapple, and cold fast water with huge waves and holes in some cases. The river was 6.6 feet and stayed at that slightly lowering to 6 when we got off. It's now moving back up again and may hit 7.2 feet by this weekend. We had sunshine and it was close to 80 degrees and bluebird weather on our last day. We had a full moon and hot springs at Sheepeater, Sunflower and Loon Creek. We even had a day we only went two miles (from Marble Creek to Stateline Right) so we could hang out at Sunflower for a few hours. But best of all, we had the gift of friendship, river freedom and comraderie that goes with a great river trip.
Oh, and I dethroned the reigning extreme croquet champ at Loon Creek Camp. So Johnny, I'm getting better. It was a tough course up hill, across an irrigation ditch and through a tent or two.

I wish I were on the river today.