2. The Drake Fall 201480
CASTLE AND MARRIAM
PEAKS, WHITE CLOUD
MOUNTAINS, IDAHO.

3. Fall 2014 The Drake 81
A
FISHERMAN’S
MONUMENTFighting for protection in Idaho’s Boulder-White Clouds
P
ublic debate over protecting
Idaho’s Boulder and White
Clouds Mountains has spanned a
generation of political careers with
no decisive outcome, but a recent proposal
to designate the area a national monument
has hope running high among flyfishers and
other conservationists.
One of Idaho’s most iconic landscapes,
and the largest unprotected roadless area
in the Lower 48, the Boulder-White Clouds
contain the headwaters of the Big Wood,
Big Lost, and East Fork Salmon rivers, along
with dozens of high-alpine lakes. At 592,000
acres, the proposed monument would form a
rough triangle between Ketchum/Sun Valley,
Stanley, and Challis—offering a lifetime of
trout-chasing options.

4. The Drake Fall 201482
The Upper Salmon
Basin supports
the highest-and
longest-migrating
salmon and
steelhead in the
world, and the
East Fork Salmon
and its tributaries
make up a good-
sized chunk of
the spawning and
rearing habitat.
When I ask local guide Paddy Mcilvoy about the
proposed monument from a flyfishing perspective,
his first response is an enthusiastic endorsement of
the East Fork of the Salmon—a stream that isn’t even
open to angling, at least not for its namesake fish.
“When you’re fishing below the confluence and
hook one of those wild East Fork steelhead, you
pretty much know it immediately,” he says. “They’re
a strong fish.”
A fan of wild steelhead, Mcilvoy supports
the closure on the East Fork and recognizes the
opportunities the tributary spawners present in
the main Salmon, which runs parallel and just
outside the proposed monument boundary. It’s a
renowned steelhead and Chinook fishery, but all
major tributaries including the East Fork, Lemhi,
Pahsimeroi, and the entire Middle Fork of the
Salmon, are closed to steelhead and salmon fishing
as refuge for spawning fish.
The Upper Salmon Basin supports the highest-
and longest-migrating salmon and steelhead in the
world, and the East Fork Salmon and its tributaries
make up a good-sized chunk of the spawning and
rearing habitat. Salmon Basin steelhead and spring/
summer Chinook travel nearly 900 river miles and
spawn at elevations up to 7,000 feet.
These fish are unique and in trouble, according
to Pat Ford, longtime director and one of the
founders of Save Our Wild Salmon Coalition.
“The East Fork is unique habitat by virtue of its
elevation and its high-desert character,” Ford says.
“Historically, the East Fork fish have been a decent
component of the main river fishery, but because
the numbers of salmon and steelhead coming back
to the East Fork are so low, you don’t have the
fishery you could have.”
East Fork spring/summer Chinook numbers
have dropped from 3,000 fish per year in the early
1960s to an average of just 178 annual returning
spawners in the period from 2000 to 2009.
Steelhead numbers are harder to gather because
much of their spawning habitat is below the fish-
trapping weir 20 miles up from the river’s mouth.
Plus, they spawn during higher water, making redd
counts more difficult. But using projections based
on wild steelhead counts at Lower Granite Dam
downstream, the NOAA draft recovery plan for the
Upper Salmon Basin includes a population estimate
of 556 natural-origin steelhead returning annually
to the East Fork. Most experts, however, believe
even those numbers are overstated.
Downstream factors, not the least of which are
controversial dams inhibiting fish passage, play a
major role in salmon decline, and those problems
won’t be solved by monument status for Boulder-
White Clouds. Nevertheless, a national monument
COREYKRUITBOSCH

5. Fall 2014 The Drake 83
plan can address degradation of spawning and rearing
habitat due to grazing, irrigation diversion, off-road
vehicle use, and mining and mineral exploration.
Much of the bottomland in the lower East Fork
drainage is private, and would remain so under
monument status, so restoration efforts will need to
be cooperative between public and private landowners.
Ford and Mcilvoy both believe that a monument,
if it’s done right, can protect spawning and rearing
habitat and also go a long way toward building public
support for addressing downstream factors. “The
steelhead and Chinook of the East Fork and other
upper Salmon tributaries are worthy of protection and
celebration,” says Ford. “But we should do it in a way
that builds constituencies and political will for solving
the big problems downstream.”
When I ask Mcilvoy about fishing in the rest of
the proposed monument, he takes a breath and an
uncharacteristic pause. “To me, the real gems are
the alpine lakes,” he says, specifically referencing his
favorite spot in the White Clouds—a system of 11
lakes collectively known as the Boulder Chain Lakes.
“You’ll probably find bigger fish in some of the lower
elevation spots like Heart Lake or Champion Lakes, but
the Boulder Chains are jaw-dropping gorgeous and the
fishing up there is insane.”
T
hree days later I backpack into the Boulder
Chain Lakes to see for myself. Accessed via
the town of Challis on the northeastern
edge of the proposed monument, the
road to the Livingston Mill trailhead follows the
lower East Fork Salmon and offers a panorama of the
expansive East Fork drainage before splitting off with
Big Boulder Creek. The East Fork is classic Western
high-desert terrain; barren and formidable except for a
bright green ribbon of irrigated bottomland sectioned
off between well-maintained ranch homes.
Per usual, I over-pack. So by the time I reach Willow
Lake, at seven miles in and 3,500 feet up, I am ready
to ditch the backpack and string my rod. The trail to
this point is well-used and open to motorcycles and
mountain bikes, but despite hiking in on Sunday of
July 4th weekend I see only one other party—a group
of four backpackers from Idaho Falls, who tell me
they’ve been planning this trip for three years. A spur
trail to the Boulder Chains splits off at Willow Lake
and the trail gets steeper.
The Boulder Chains include two clusters of lakes
spread along three miles of Little Boulder Creek. And
Mcilvoy is right; the setting is mind-blowing, with the
11,000-foot White Cloud Peaks casting mirror images
on lake surfaces. I catch fish at each lake, mostly
rainbows, with a few cutthroat. There are brookies
AT 11,815 FEET, CASTLE PEAK IS THE
HIGHEST MOUNTAIN IN THE WHITE
CLOUD RANGE. IT SITS WITHIN THE
SAWTOOTH NATIONAL RECREATION
AREA, ABOUT 20 MILES SOUTHEAST
OF STANLEY.

6. The Drake Fall 201484
nearby as well. I also fish Little Boulder Creek between
the lakes, where I land only cutthroat before stopping
at Hour Glass, the first lake in the upper chain, to make
camp for the night.
All these waters are full of mostly small fish. My
favorite is Tiny Lake, not much more than a pond
between Hour Glass and Hummock Lakes, that fishes
more like a slow river eddy. It may be my bias for
moving water, but one of the things I like best about
the Boulder Chains is that, with so many lakes so close
together, you have multiple options for fishing inlets
and outlets.
Catching all those pan-sized fish inevitably leads
one to ponder the size question, but I gain a different
perspective on this after considering numbers and
odds. In a place like the Boulder Lakes, where eight or
10 inches makes a fish feel pretty good about himself,
he’s gonna come to the party with a certain bravado. I
do find a few that would push 12, maybe even 13 or 14
inches, mostly cruising the shoreline in ones and twos.
But all those eight-inchers are so damn eager that it’s
tough keeping a fly on the water long enough to catch
anything else.
After coming out of the White Clouds, I am eager
to explore the fishing from the Boulders side of the
proposed monument. As soon as I’m back home, my
wife Dana and I plan a getaway to stay with a friend in
Ketchum and fish the North Fork Big Wood and North
Fork Big Lost, both accessed from Ketchum/Sun Valley.
The North Fork Big Wood, which flows out of the
proposed monument past the Sawtooth National
Recreation Area headquarters, is a picturesque
mountain stream with plenty of gradient and a pool-
drop feel. It’s the kind of place you can pack a lunch, a
three-weight, and a handful of Royal Wulffs and make
a day of it.
The morning we fished the North Fork, though, we
knew there were much bigger trout slurping green
drakes downstream, on the main stem of the Big
Wood. So after two hours, we backpedalled to the Big
Wood just north of town. I knew I’d be writing a story
about the proposed monument, but I rationalized
that no matter where you fish it, the Big Wood is still
a product of the proposed monument, since that’s
where it originates.
The Big Wood may be one of the most underrated
freestone streams in the country. Recent fish counts
estimate 4,500 fish per mile in the section between
Ketchum and Hailey. And these are big, strong wild
trout—mostly rainbows in the upper section with
browns mixed in the farther downstream you get.
But underrated doesn’t mean underutilized. The Wood,
as it is known locally, flows through the heart of Ketchum/
Sun Valley before meandering alongside the towns of
Hailey and Bellevue. Fishing the Wood on a green drake or
a caddis hatch is like skiing Alta or Jackson on a powder
day: You know the goods are there, but there’s a throng of
locals who know the place better than you could ever hope
to, and they think nothing of dropping in to pinch you out
of a honey hole.
We save the best of the Boulder-White Clouds
exploration for our last day. The drive from Sun Valley
over Trail Creek Pass is worth the trip, and descending
into the Big Lost country feels like going back in
geologic time. It’s huge terrain, with a broad valley floor
rolling out between steep mountains. Around every
bend, we catch glimpses of yet another statuesque peak.
Dana and I start just inside the proposed monument
boundary, at the confluence of Summit Creek and
the North Fork Big Lost, which both flow out of the
Boulder Mountains and come together as the Big Lost.
Farther downstream the Big Lost picks up volume from
Wild Horse Creek, the East Fork Big Lost, and a dozen
smaller creeks before backing up at Mackay Reservoir.
But up here the Big Lost is small water and easy to
wade. With riffles, seams, cut banks, and plenty of
structure, the place looks as fishy as any trout stream
I’ve ever seen. Forty minutes from Sun Valley and we
have the entire river to ourselves.
I’ve been told the Big Lost is more about quality than
quantity, and that adage plays out. No hatch is going on
and we never do see fish feeding, but we both manage
to bring a handful of fish to the surface on Stimulators
and Turk’s. They are mostly golden-hued cutthroat with
a couple of stocky rainbows in the mix.
We fish a mile or two, then go back to the truck and
continue working our way up the North Fork. A decent
dirt road follows the stream, so we drive 12 miles along
it, stopping to fish whatever catches our eye. We see
two other anglers.
I
t’s hard, in most political circles, paying much
attention to a river that flows through sparse
country before simply vanishing into the
ground. Below Mackay Reservoir the Big Lost is
a fine tailwater fishery for a few miles. But then much
of its water is syphoned for irrigation and what’s left
simply disappears into a desert sink—hence the name,
Lost River.
The Big Lost, the Big Wood, the East Fork Salmon,
the high alpine lakes, and all that wild country in
between, seem deserving of the kind of protection a
national monument would provide, but the future of
this place is far from certain.
Potato State politics run pretty red, bringing a deep
distrust of anything from the feds. National Monument
status, if it happens, would come via a Presidential
proclamation under the Antiquities Act, and it’s
bothersome to some Idaho politicians that a Democrat
in the White House might, with a stroke of a pen,
The Big Wood
may be one of the
most underrated
freestone streams
in the country.
estimate 4,500
section between
Ketchum and
are big, strong,

7. Fall 2014 The Drake 85
THE EAST FORK OF THE
SALMON RIVER, HOST TO
MANY SPAWNING SALMON
AND STEELHEAD.

8. The Drake Fall 201486
designate a half million acres of federal land in Idaho as
a place worthy of protection.
Yet Idaho is also the kind of place that likes its
politicians to show some maverick flair. While that
nonconformist bent sometimes results in extreme
right- or left-wingism, there is still plenty of room to
buck the party line in more pragmatic ways. Eight-term
Congressman Mike Simpson has made a career out
of the latter. The popular and influential Republican
has staked much of his political capital on brokering
a legislative package known as the Central Idaho
Economic Development and Recreation Enhancement
Act (CIEDRA). The legislation would designate 332,775
acres in the Boulder-White Clouds as Wilderness, while
releasing another 130,000 acres from Wilderness Study
Areas and providing more than $7 million in economic
incentives to the adjacent counties.
While some notable conservation groups, like
the Sierra Club and the Sawtooth Society, prefer
the Wilderness designations that would come
from CIEDRA, it is a commentary on how broken
Congress is right now that CIEDRA has failed for
10 years running to even get a hearing. And it’s
this Congressional dysfunction that led Idaho
conservationists and business leaders to bring the
national monument proposal to the table.
Local support for a monument runs the gamut,
with Blaine County—home to Ketchum, Sun Valley,
and Hailey—formally endorsing it, and Custer
County—home to Challis and Stanley—opposing.
Business support, particularly from outdoor-oriented
businesses, runs strong. The statewide Idaho Outdoor
Business Council commissioned an economic impact
study last year by Ben Johnson Associates that
concluded national monument designation could
create up to 155 new jobs and infuse up to $12
million per year into the economies of the four closest
counties. Several business owners from the Wood River
Valley, including Olin Glenne, owner of Sturtevants
(where Mcilvoy guides), traveled to Washington, DC,
to advocate for monument designation and to present
the study findings to White House officials and Idaho’s
Congressional delegation.
Support has also coalesced in the form of a group
called Sportsmen for Boulder White-Clouds. “The
Boulder-White Clouds is a sportsmen’s paradise but it’s
not being managed as such,” says outreach coordinator
Michael Gibson. “For too long, we’ve seen our hunting
and fishing areas fall prey to mismanagement,
overdevelopment, or ill-conceived land swaps. A
monument proclamation would give certainty that this
landscape will be passed on intact.”
Scott Schnebly, owner of the Ketchum-based fly shop
and guide service Lost River Outfitters, has guided on the
Big Lost since the early ’70s, and he hopes a monument
could help institute more sustainable practices like catch
In an odd twist on
the sportsmen’s
front, the Idaho
Fish and Game
Commission voted
in July to oppose
creation of a
Boulder-White
Clouds National
Monument, citing
states’ rights as
their primary
concern.
COREYKRUITBOSCH

9. Fall 2014 The Drake 87
and release regulations. “The fishery and watershed would
benefit from it,” he says. “We would benefit in Ketchum.
Hailey would benefit. Stanley would benefit. Challis could
benefit if they were interested in promoting. Idaho needs
that kind of economic growth.”
In an odd twist on the sportsmen’s front, the
Idaho Fish and Game Commission voted in July to
oppose creation of a Boulder-White Clouds National
Monument, citing states’ rights as their primary
concern. “Without state sovereignty, you won’t have
hunting, fishing, and trapping in any meaningful way,”
Commission Chairman Fred Trevey said after the vote.
Commissioner Brad Corkill added, “There’s just no
guarantee that the (Obama) administration, which has
shown a bit of disdain for accepted practices already,
will listen to a damn thing anyone says.”
The vote is not so surprising when you consider that
the commission members are political appointees of
Idaho Governor C.L. “Butch” Otter, who came into
office on a platform of anti-federalism, and opposed
Congressman Simpson’s CIEDRA bill, as well as the
current national-monument proposal.
I’m not necessarily predicting a political shift in
Idaho, but it’s interesting to note that protection of
the Boulder-White Clouds was the deciding factor the
last time a Democrat unseated a Republican as Idaho
governor. The election was 1970, and the Tucson-based
ASARCO mining company had proposed a massive
open-pit molybdenum mine at the base of Castle Peak
in the White Cloud Mountains. The mine would’ve
required all the trappings accompanying open-pit
systems, including a processing mill, access roads,
power lines, and a tailings pond that would swamp five
miles of Little Boulder Creek.
Republican incumbent Don Samuelson staunchly
supported the mine, and Democratic challenger Cecil
Andrus opposed it, campaigning on a ticket of stopping
the mine and putting permanent protections in place.
Andrus won the election, his first of four terms as
governor, with a stint in between as Interior Secretary
under Jimmy Carter.
The mine was stopped and the first piece of what
was to be a comprehensive conservation and recreation
plan for the area was put in place with the creation
of the Sawtooth National Recreation Area. While the
Sawtooth NRA provides a layer of protection for the
high-elevation terrain of the Boulder-White Clouds
proper and the upper Salmon main stem, it does
virtually nothing to protect important fish-spawning
habitat of the East Fork Salmon and North Fork Big
Lost, among others.
In the years since, there have been multiple attempts
to permanently protect this wild country. None have
made it through the political gauntlet. Ultimately,
a president’s pen may the last, best hope for this
flyfishing nirvana.
FALL ON THE BIG WOOD. BOULDER
MOUNTAINS IN THE BACKGROUND.