D is for Dagger Falls

After some hesitance, I finally gave in to my dark side. I admitted the possibility that this blog challenge could indeed resemble an exercise in travel blogging, narrowly centered on cool places in Idaho and Montana, of which there are simply too many to count. I'm OK with that. In a happy collision with other goals, a travel blog covering Idaho and Montana also serves the master of "background for New Grass Growing" equally well. New Grass Growing is a story from Idaho. Cale and Dana and Lane and Myra and the rest of the family, take you though parts of Idaho most people never get to see, including stretches of the Middle Fork, a place and space that once seen is simply never forgotten. Flyover country leaves a strong mark. You've been warned. I was lucky enough to live in this space for a few years. Half a lifetime later, other than wife and kids, this place ranks close to the top in memories.

And so begins the lurid tale not often associated with the letter "D". This is a tale rarely heard, for even whispering the phrase "Dagger Falls" strikes fear into the hearts of rigid shell boaters. Only soft shell boaters dare go further into the darkness of this memory.

A few miles past the back of beyond, downstream about ten miles from the joinery of Marsh Creek and Bear Valley Creek, one finds a strong constricted flow in the valley of the Middle Fork. At this point just above Boundary Creek, one finds the only Category V drop on the Middle Fork - Dagger Falls.

Salmon on occasion do leap it. Boats on occasion do descend it. People view it and walk away with pictures of Nature's fury. Except there is no fury there, only the unquestioning subservience to nature's fundamental laws of physics. Gravity. Flow. Start High. End Low. Nature reduces even the mightiest crag to the grain of sand. Once you see Dagger Falls flexing its muscle you will no longer question nature's abilities.

I've stood on edge of Dagger Falls. Filled with the thunder of noise moving by. Awed by nature's power and might. There's no question here, at least for me. This is a near perfect example of old Ma Nature flexing her muscle and daring you to dance. She leads. You follow - and live to tell about it if you are lucky. Actually, there's a ton of water moving through a smallish space. Odds are you would wash out fairly fast, but it's strong and the ride would be not soon forgotten. I've never run it. I freely confess to being nervous just standing by and watching it. Hells' Half Mile below it, as an introduction to the Category IV Velvet Falls is plenty for me.

River guiding on the Middle Fork is a life well worth living. Once in a lifetime on a one of a kind piece of American Beauty.

I hope you will join me tomorrow for one more entry sponsored by "E", about yet one more magical place on the Middle Fork.