At home on the RogueFarewell Eddy
Like so many in the local outdoor community, I was saddened when Eddy Miller lost his life two weeks ago during a hike after a day of rafting on the Middle Fork of Idaho's Salmon River. Saddening because even though I wasn't a close personal friend of his, I was looking forward to getting to know him better after spending four days with him on the Rogue River in May.
During our Rogue trip, Miller lived up to his well-deserved reputation as a consummate rafter and outdoorsman. Standing, as he liked to, while rowing invoked old school rafting at its best. But he was on the river for more than just for the rowing and whitewater. Miller reveled in the natural surroundings. And after a day on the river, he proved a model of efficiency in getting the night's camp up and running smoothly.
He looked the part of the outdoorsman, his wiry, tan, well-muscled body set off by a shock of pre-mature white hair.
As the trip unfolded, he revealed his family's unique connection the Rogue. It's detailed in his grandmother's diary, a copy of which he gave me, chronicling a four-month long Miller family stay on the river in 1929. It proved a fascinating read.

