Palouse & Snake Rivers
Drewyer’s River was our destination this morning, a name not on your map today, but a name on the map drawn by William Clark in October of 1805. Named in honor of George Drouillard, this tributary of the Snake River is now a quiet backwater. The tiered basaltic cliffs stared down at their reflections, and we sent ripples across this watery mirror as our fleet of Zodiacs went upstream to investigate the narrowing river.
We let our senses guide our explorations. From the willows came an impatient, raucous call, a black-billed magpie was skulking amongst the thick shore-side vegetation. Black and white question marks glided silently along the waters surface and then disappeared; these were the slim necks of Western grebes, their bodies nearly invisible as they floated and then dove into the water, foraging for a morning meal. We spooked a coot from a cattail thicket; it went flapping and splashing its way across the bow of our Zodiac. We breathed in the enchanting scent of sage, as we caressed its velvety soft leaves between our fingers.
Flying low along the willows, a Northern harrier hawk made a silent pass; it too was on a quest for a meal. The constant chatter of an American kestrel gave away its location as it sat on top of a willow. Perhaps some other raptor was infringing on its territory, and the need to proclaim rights was deemed in order. The rarest sound of all was encountered when we came to a bend in the river, cut our engine, and reveled in the magnitude of an all-encompassing silence—a treat not found everywhere, everyday.
The day continued to invite us out of doors, and so we picnicked outside and had a lovely deck lunch. The backdrop of basaltic cliffs continued to accompany us as we sailed downstream, munched, and finished off our lunch with ice cream sundaes.
Downriver we came upon Monumental Rock, a landmark William Clark noted in his journal in the fall of 1805; below it today is Lower Monumental Lock and Dam. Deploying our Zodiacs once more, we took intrepid travelers downstream by locking down in the Zodiacs. Racing ahead of the mother ship, we entered the lock, tied to the floating bollard and rafted together our little Zodiac flotilla. The National Geographic Sea Bird came in behind us and secured as well. We found it took only 12.5 minutes to drop from 539 to 439 feet above sea level. The pitter-patter of raindrops tried to dampen our spirits, but they only succeeded in christening our rain gear as we enjoyed our lock and dam adventure in high spirits.
Ahead of us: one more lock on the Snake River, three more locks in the night on the Columbia River and that will put us in a position for a whole new set of adventures tomorrow.
