CHASING THE RISING SUN IN IDAHO
HIKING, BIKING AND RAFTING IN IDAHO’S ALPINE GEM
SUN VALLEY, IDAHO » Mountain peaks pierce the sky like emerald pyramids as we weave through Idaho’s Sawtooth National Forest, more than 2 million acres of gorgeous green that’s home to Bald Mountain, one of the Smoky Mountains’ highest summits near Ketchum.
After spending a day discovering the hipster comforts of Boise, we’ve driven three hours east to this massive wilderness, where the blue sky is free of clouds and mountain goats scale the golden granite, for a late summer getaway. Sun Valley is the posh resort area that includes Ketchum and Hailey, towns that Bruce Willis, Tom Hanks and other Hollywood elite call home.
To wrap one’s head around how much nature is here — and just how deeply your soul will surrender to it — crunch the numbers: The region is home to more than 1,000 lakes, 3,000 miles of rivers and countless mountain trails and equestrian routes. There is so much to do in the summer, you almost forget about the world-class skiing that’s defined Sun Valley since 1936.
A nature photographer I met during our stay sensed my desperation to pack it all in. “Don’t feel bad,” he said. “There are several lifetimes of seeing here.”
On this particular morning, my husband, 7-year-old and I have joined our Southern California surfer friends — they’ve been coming to Sun Valley every summer since 2008 — in downtown Ketchum in search of bike rentals. With its tree-lined streets and Alpine charm, Ketchum is reminiscent of a small Sierra town, albeit with a Lululemon, Starbucks, upscale restaurants and cutting-edge architecture.
We end up at The Elephant’s Perch, a bike shop named after the Sawtooth Range’s famous dome, and settle on a few tandem bikes. Strapping on our helmets, we hook a right out of town onto Trail Creek Road, an easy, paved path that takes us past mansion-sized cabins and the 18-hole Trail Creek Golf Course.
Before long, we’re slicing through high-mountain meadows dotted with wildflowers. The only sound is the occasional pop of distant skeet shooting. Before Ernest Hemingway was laid to rest here in 1961, the writer picnicked and hunted for pronghorn under these “high, blue windless skies” as he called them. The bronze Hemingway Memorial is tucked into a cove near a stream just 1.5 miles up the road, east of Sun Valley Lodge.
Biking has stoked our appetites, so we settle into an early dinner at the Pioneer Saloon, a steakhouse and local institution dating back to the 1940s. Vintage firearms and mounted game cover the wooden walls of the saloon, where we feast on Angus beef filet mignon ($29), aged in-house and dripping with blue-cheese butter, alongside huge Idaho baked potatoes ($4 with dinner) stuffed with
sour cream. Marionberry cobbler ($7), served warm with ice cream, is the perfect ending to this perfect day.
The next morning, after coffee and breakfast sammies ($9) at Bigwood Bread Cafe, we head north on Highway 75 toward Stanley, population 69, and the gateway to our family’s first whitewater rafting adventure. Stanley sits at the foot of the Sawtooth Mountains on the banks of the Salmon River. It is a famous stopover for climbers and rafters eager to rest between adventures. It also has a few destination-worthy comforts, including the rustic Sawtooth Hotel, Redd Square Restaurant and Stanley Baking Company & Cafe.
About five miles shy of town, we pull onto Redfish Lake Road, the paved access road toward the Sawtooth Range that ends at the north shore of Redfish Lake, elevation 6,547 feet. The sudden blue of the 4.5-mile-wide lake is arresting, and we stop for fish and chips at Redfish Lake Lodge’s Lakeside Grill, taking in the kayaks and canoes bobbing along the marina.
Redfish gets its name from the concentration of sockeye salmon that once came here from the Pacific Ocean to spawn. They came in such large quantities that the lake glistened crimson, and it was said that you could walk on their backs. We take a stroll along the Fishhook Creek Nature Trail, hoping to spot one of these now-rare fish, but no luck. Happy families play on the lake’s white sand beach, but we’re eager to meet our guide and do some splashing of our own.
White Otter Outdoor Adventures is 30 miles north of Redfish Lake, past Stanley, in Sunbeam. Our friends recommended White Otter because it’s the only company located at the river’s put-in, meaning you’re not bused to the river. The raft is simply a short stroll from headquarters, where our guide, Beppe, awaits.
Beppe grew up in Sacramento and cut his oars on the American River. After a brief safety check and a few reminders — “you will get wet and yes, the water is very cold”— he gives our six-person raft a shove, jumps in and steers us into the Upper Salmon.
The Salmon, also known as the River of No Return, flows for 425 miles through central Idaho. It’s such a major landmark that the river’s lower half provides the time-zone boundary for the entire state, with Northern Idaho on Pacific time and the rest of the state on Mountain time.
On this afternoon, the river delivers a mix of fast-moving and large uniform waves (Class I and Class II rapids). We don’t get soaked — freezing, Beppe, freezing is the word — until the two Class III rapids hit us. They’re large, powerful and wild, and as Beppe squats to center his weight and control the dip, we spot a family of hooded mergansers on a large rock, their white crests raised as if to shield themselves from the splash.
My son’s complaints of “cold and tired” couldn’t have been timed better. We stop at the river’s edge toward the end of the ride and Beppe hands us fleeces to warm up and serves lemonade, staff-made banana bread and buttery, chocolate chip Starr Bars, which we gobble up before boarding the van that will take us back to White Otter.
We spend our last day in Sun Valley getting up close and personal with its star. As we ride the ski lift toward Bald Mountain, we stop midway for lunch, at Roundhouse, an octagonal shaped restaurant at 7,700 feet, built in 1939 to emulate the best escapes of the Swiss Alps.
The view is stunning and as we look out onto panoramic views of the sharp peaks, we nibble smoked salmon BLTs ($18) with avocado and Roundhouse chicken Caesar ($17) salads with preserved egg yolks and brioche croutons.
As if it couldn’t get better, we hop one more gondola to 9,1501 feet, and touch down on Bald. It’s 15 degrees cooler here and we’re glad we packed light jackets for the hike. The butterfly-dotted trail, the open sky, the trees and endless evergreen canyons look like a painting. Here’s to many more lifetimes of seeing.