The next day, in fact, starts at sunrise, as if we are on some bizarre hedonistic Oregon Trail: late nights, endless bottles of wine, harmonicas, and coffee filtered through a paper towel. The boat is provisioned with Yeti coolers full of beers, pickles, and Olympia Provisions terrines; and we’re soon drifting down the Grande Ronde. Cairo points out the areas where the most trout can be found—where the water foams up, or the dark shadow where a shallow shoal drops off into a deeper channel. We choose one, park the rafts, and wade in. Pretty quickly, Moore catches not a trout but a long, silver northern pikeminnow, a whitefish that thrives in the reservoirs of the state’s hydropower system.