We’re experiencing all 66 miles of Eastern Idaho’s South Fork of the Snake River as a family. My husband rows our drift boat and our two boys tally wildlife on Day 1 while I fly fish. It’s easy to lose yourself in the trout lore of the South Fork with its gin-clear current in the summer, epic bug hatches on the hour and 3,000 wild fish per mile. But there’s more to this place than pescador pander.
“The South Fork has been the most successful landscape in this part of the state from a land protection aspect,” says Matthew Ward, The Nature Conservancy South Fork watershed manager. “We’re keeping that area ecologically intact for fish and wildlife and human enjoyment and it’s a lasting, forever thing."
Cottonwood
The pillars of this intact ecosystem are cottonwood trees. The South Fork contains the largest cottonwood gallery in the West. In the fall, the leaves on the tall-timbered giants lining the banks bounce in the breeze like gold coins exploding from the pot at rainbow’s end.
During our 3-day float, we’re seeing them in their green glory of summer heat with black patches throughout. Those patches are bald eagles. The South Fork is the bird’s stronghold. They were listed as endangered in 1978 and delisted as recovered in 2007, but they were always nesting on the South Fork.
Cutthroat
The other constant is native Yellowstone cutthroat trout. Rainbow trout and brown trout introduced decades ago are pressuring their birthright, but cutties remain on the South Fork while many other Western watersheds have lost them. Most of the cutthroats spawn in tributaries contributing to the main channel, but they are found throughout and the farther you float, the bigger they get.
Conservation
On the second day of our family float, the water morphs from easy-to-read to a tangle of braided deadfall. It’s hard to find a place to camp. We overnighted in the canyon and had plenty of accessible, public-land camping spots to choose from. Now, on the lower stretch, we’re restricted to midstream gravel bars where the approach is sketchy and there’s development on both banks. In the canyon, the banks are mostly undisturbed. That’s no accident.
“I started with The Nature Conservancy in 1987,” says Mark Elsbree, The Conservation Fund senior vice president. “One of the first file folders on my desk was the proposed Hays Ranch development. Fifty-five homes with a jet boat marina and a golf course in the heart of the canyon. That’s what inspired conservation of the South Fork.”
The Nature Conservancy bought its first conservation easement on the South Fork in 1989. It was 177 acres neighboring the proposed ranch subdivision. Easements protect land from development while private ownership is retained. Acquisitions are purchases of private land from willing sellers with easements added during the transaction so the managing entity, be it government or non-profit, can’t subdivide it either. In total, the two protective measures shield more than 26,000 acres of the South Fork from future development while also securing public access.
“Most people don’t know about that work and don’t realize that the reason they can float the canyon and not have so many homes up on the ridge is because of that work,” says Monica Zimmerman, Bureau of Land Management outdoor recreation planner. “There’s been decades of work done to keep the cottonwood gallery forest and wildlife movement intact.”
On the final day of our float, we launch early under the shading branches of cottonwoods. Our littles, tucked into the bow of the boat layered in long sleeves and lifejackets, are playing rummy with a deck of cards. Mist rises off the water under us. An eagle pair nests above us. My husband lifts the anchor. I shove the boat from the bank. We’re in our sweet spot, the South Fork, and we will always be southbound. Where my boys nap with the river’s sway. Where my husband rows with the river’s braid. Where I know I can always retreat to a river that is as it should be. Consistently wild.