Raft the deepest gorge in America on Idaho’s Snake River through Hells Canyon

The Snake River cuts through golden hills and steep canyons. Pam LeBlanc photo

Not everyone who rafts through Hells Canyon on Idaho’s Snake River gets to enter the famous Green Room. 

The wave, part of a Class 4 section of whitewater called Granite Rapids, gobbles up rafts if the river’s flow is too low or too high. Even if it’s just right, making it through unscathed requires threading your way through a boat-width-wide slot. 

Luckily, I’m not at the helm. 

On this late August afternoon, our guide lines us up like she’s sighting a rifle and we surge toward the torrent of water. Then, like a jumbo jet hitting turbulence, we drop. Suddenly I’m watching a slow-motion movie: Straight down. Straight up. Green wall. Huge white fangs. A trashcan full of cold water to the chest. Lots of screaming –– and then bliss. 

In the end, we pop out –– six slightly bedraggled paddlers, one guide, and every bit of gear still in the boat. 

“I love that one, and you’ve really got to line it up right because on either side there are big waves running off,” says Connie Kennedy, our guide. “We hit it just right and that was perfect.” 

It was just one of many highlights during a five-day trip down the Snake River in Idaho with ROW Adventures.  

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The Snake River  

Nothing compares to the two weeks I spent on a self-guided trip with friends down the Colorado River through the Grand Canyon two years ago. And it doesn’t offer the big sandy beaches for camping that you’ll find on the nearby Salmon River, the longest undammed river in the contiguous United States.  

But a trip on the Snake with ROW Adventures will take you through the deepest gorge in North America and plenty of white-knuckle rapids. Crews set up camp each night, including everyone’s tents. And you might see some spectacular wildlife. I spotted bighorn sheep, bald eagles and one big furry omnivore much bigger than me.  

The bear 

A black bear ambles along the Snake River in Idaho. Pam LeBlanc photo

We’d only been rafting a few hours on the first day when someone in our group started flapping their arms and pointing toward shore. 

We looked: A large brown blob was moseying along the shoreline up ahead. I pulled out my camera. When we got closer, I realized it was a black bear, and it utterly ignored our three rafts. We quit paddling and drifting closer to shore, watching it amble along, periodically pausing to dip an oven mitt-sized paw in the water. After a few minutes, it glanced up and finally noticed us. When it waded into the water and began swimming our direction, we grabbed our paddles and skedaddled. 

A microburst 

We’d just piled all of our gear into our tents, grabbed drinks and settled in to enjoy the sunset when the skies darkened. 

Moments later, a massive gust of wind snatched the shade awning over our camp kitchen. As we scattered, racing to secure our tents, a flurry of tarps, towels and tables peeled off the sand and cartwheeled past. 

It took a few minutes to retrieve our stuff after the 15-minute tempest ended, but I’m happy to report that the cooks saved dinner, we all found our tents, and the guy who happened to be sitting on the toilet just as the storm hit survived just fine. The ordeal helped our merry band of revelers bond that first night. 

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Fellow travelers on the Snake River

The 13 guests on our trip included seven men from Philadelphia, now in their mid-60s, who had known each other since childhood. They poked fun at each other, told stories, sang songs, and bickered like kids. I felt like I’d time traveled back to seventh grade, in a good way. 

A young married couple and a father with his two almost-grown children completed our group. 

The history 

Each day we hiked to a historic old ranch or the ruins of places where indigenous people or miners once lived. But it was the visit to the site of the Chinese Massacre of 1887 that stuck with me. A gang of local men and boys killed 34 Chinese miners at the spot and fled with their gold. No one was punished for the crime. 

One day, we picked apricots from wild-growing trees in an abandoned orchard. The crew used them to make a sauce for the salmon we ate that night. 

The paddling 

You’ve got three options when it comes to getting down the river, and I tried all of them. 

First, you can grab a paddle and climb on a raft with other guests and a guide and propel yourself downstream. You’ll get wet, scream a lot, and probably get into a splash fight with other rafts in your group.  

Second, you can ride on an oar boat rowed by one of the guides. This is a drier (but not dry) option, and it’s fun if you just want to veg out and watch the scenery scroll by. 

Finally, you can hop into one of the inflatable kayaks and take yourself through some of the smaller rapids. Steering into those waves on the kayak felt like riding a bucking horse down an undulating ribbon of green while someone threw buckets of ice water in my face. Yeehaw! 

The hikes 

Guests on a rafting trip with ROW Adventures hike to a historic ranch along the Snake River. Pam LeBlanc photo

I was nervous about hiking to Suicide Point, high above the river, because I’m afraid of heights. But a fellow guest encouraged me, and I followed her to the highpoint, where we looked down at a bend in the river like the Grinch looking down on Whoville in the Dr Seuss story. (But without the mean streak.) 

Guests can do as much – or as little – hiking as they want on the trip.  

Wildfire helicopter 

A helicopter fills its tank with water to drop on a wildfire in Idaho. Pam LeBlanc photo

Parts of Idaho and Oregon were ablaze during my rafting trip, in late August, which made for some hazy days. But it also made for some one-of-a-kind excitement. 

One afternoon, several helicopters dropped down to the river near our camp to fill their tanks with water to fight the fires over the ridge. They were so close they blasted us with wind and water spray. 

When you’ve got to go 

Each night, the crew set up a loo with a view –– a portable toilet about the size of a square laundry basket, which they placed inside a tent. This “bathroom” was always placed at the edge of camp, and opened up to a fantastic view. Because why just poop in the wilderness when you can do your business while contemplating the beauty of nature?  

Those pesky jet boats 

Another thing to know? Jet boats are popular on the Snake River, and we encountered plenty of them the last two days of our river trip. They’re fast, noisy, and create wakes that can make for a bumpy ride if you’re on a rubber raft. But most slow down as they pass, and you don’t see them after about 5 p.m.

Heading home

I headed home from my Snake River trip with a little sand between my toes, a poison ivy rash on my knees and a duffle bag full of damp clothing. I also left with a sense of peace that always comes with spending time outdoors, without electronics, with nothing but nature to occupy your thoughts. 

For me, that’s heaven.