Idahome: Chasing Dinosaurs

Stories have to be told or they die, and when they die,
we can’t remember who we are or why we’re here.
Sue Monk Kidd, The Secret Life of Bees

White sturgeon are native to the Snake River and many waterways on the Pacific. The Snake is a river that makes its way from the headwaters of the Tetons and Yellowstone all the way to the Pacific Ocean for over 1000 miles. The white sturgeon is the largest freshwater fish in North America and is a largely protected species because of its slow growth rate, years to maturity, and reproduction rate.

I first learned of these beautiful creatures when we moved to Idaho in 2015 because they are so strictly regulated. Older fishermen would speak of these creatures with awe, wonder, and reverence. Their reactions would make me lean in and want to know more about these fish that seemed mythical and out of a storybook.

Naturally, we had to try to fish for them ourselves when we got the chance and invested enough in the right equipment. If you spend any time at all on the Snake River looking for sturgeon, you’ll quickly realize that people are VERY protective of their fishing spots. I would say they are second only to bass fishermen during tournaments. Nevertheless, we hiked and paddled our way around miles of river looking for the kinds of conditions that we knew sturgeon thrived in. The second necessity was that it needed to be accessible to get to with the necessary gear to make an attempt remotely possible. It took a year, some luck, and four newly found good friends.

After the summer of 2016 we sturgeon fished maybe once or twice more during our time in Idaho. I was a little defeated that my partner had gotten the chance of a lifetime to hold such a beautiful creature in his hands. I sincerely wanted the same experience for myself. I was a little envious, and disappointed that I probably wouldn’t get the chance to try again to catch one of these iconic fish.

Summer of 2022

My partner and I returned to Idaho on a work trip and reconnected with good friends. One thing I learned very slowly as a military spouse was the creation of community and a friend group that would become like family. I didn’t grow up with close friends or family in the military. My immediate grandparents didn’t serve. I had cousins and great-uncles that did, but I didn’t see them except for once a year on the holidays. I grew up with family close by and with friends I would see at school and sometimes on the weekends. But I didn’t understand the concept of creating your own family outside of biological ties until I was very much an adult.

Having a partner in the military and living on base for three years very much changed that concept for me. Thankfully it wasn’t a new concept for Wes. It’s because of him that I have some of the most awesome people in my life today. I wouldn’t have known them or call them family now if he hadn’t pushed me out of my hermit-bubble.

Each time we go back to Idaho, it’s this group of family and friends we make it a point to see, visit, and get out on the water with. One of these good friends is Dennis. You’ll remember him from our first trip on the Situk in Alaska.

Dennis is a waterman through and through. His skill and knowledge of all things boats, rivers, mountains, and navigating it all always to leave me in awe. What’s more is his continuous passion for figuring out challenging situations and learning. He is never still, always questioning, always learning, always willing to pivot, and embodies a lot of what I hope to be as a grown up adventurer.

It was only fitting that my partner and I got together with Dennis, his brother, and their good friend to go sturgeon fishing for a day on the banks of the Snake River. Being our guide, they graciously allowed us to use a pair of 4-wheelers to follow them out on the trek to their favorite spot. It was a beautiful summer Idaho day. Mild winds coming in off the desert, cool fog on the river in the morning, and bright sunshine by evening. The river was a perfect blue-green and not too high after spring runoff.

They geared us up, and we set to fishing. I honestly didn’t expect to catch anything. Sturgeon fishing feels very similar to catfishing and can be a little boring. But we had great company, an endless amount of stories and adventures to share, and lunch. About halfway through our time on the river, I checked one of the rods that had been set up and was surprised to realize that something was indeed on the line. At the same moment I also realized that whatever was on the line was also about to pull me in the water. Thankfully my partner grabbed me by the wading belt and hauled me back from the edge of the river until I found my footing again.

After what felt like five minutes, a creature breached in the rapid across the river. I saw what I could only assume was a small grey whale come completely out of the water above the wave train, slap its tail in the air, and disappear back into the waves. My heart stopped. I might have died a little. Then I came back to life and kept reeling. I almost lost my footing again on the rocks. After another 10 minutes I could finally see what I was fighting coming into the eddy below. My heart stopped, again.

I remember the first time my fingers touched a sting ray at the Monterey Bay Aquarium. Its wings were so soft my brain could barely register that I was actually touching anything. In that same way and with that same child-like wonder, I remember the smooth and sandpaper-like skin of the sturgeon under my fingers. I remember the way my hands dwarfed in comparison to every inch of its being. I remember feeling small, and humbled, and honored, and grateful in all of the best ways. I will never forget the feeling of that fish slipping through my fingers as I released it into the blue-green of the river.