A Different Current
David Konigsberg used to be driven only by adrenaline. Not any more. Kevin Taylor
David Konigsberg was 19. He was sitting in a familiar classroom at the University of Colorado at Boulder on a perfectly ordinary day. Who knew what would happen when he picked up that newspaper right in the middle of the lecture?
“I don’t know why I was reading a paper in physics class. But I was.”
He spotted an advertisement that a rafting company was looking for river guides. Konigsberg had never been on a river, but he paddled his way through a tryout and was among four hires out of three-dozen candidates.
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The way he looked at the world profoundly changed. He stopped planning to be an engineer. No one called him David any more.
“It’s Koni,” he says.
Konigsberg has spent 16 of his 34 years as a river runner, the last 11 with ROW Adventures in Coeur d’Alene, where he has risen to director of operations and recently bought his first house.
Konigsberg’s entrée to the world of a river raft guide “opened my eyes to when I get out of college, I don’t have to have a job that’s 365 days with benefits. I met folks who worked in seasonal industries, and I can have a job where I can play. And that opened my eyes to traveling.”
Konigsberg shifted his major to anthropology with a minor in fun and adventure. He spent his summers on the Arkansas and Dolores rivers in Colorado, plunging through Class III and IV rapids with boatloads of whooping customers. Winters, he traveled through Nepal, India and elsewhere.
“For a year I went to New Zealand and rafted a 23-foot waterfall. I definitely got a lot of testosterone boost out of that,” he says.
The adrenaline used to be enough.
But over time, Konigsberg began to feel the tug of different currents, pulling him to a realization that wild landscapes demand some attention. That in addition to the thrills, there may be as much of a reward in describing the overlay of history and culture and nature to create a sense of place.
“Koni understands the idea that if people can learn to appreciate an area, or a river, or an ecosystem, the chances are good they’re going to be better stewards of those places,” says Bill Sedivy, executive director of Idaho Rivers United.
Sedivy met Konigsberg about 10 years ago, after the latter had moved to Idaho. ROW Adventures occasionally runs fundraising river trips for the conservation group.
“Even back then, from the day I met him, it was obvious Koni was very passionate and protective and very, very knowledgeable. He’s done a lot of homework in order to know enough himself to enable others he floats the rivers with to be able to connect,” Sedivy says.
Konigsberg says he stopped wanting to be the “best guide in the world,” who could run the biggest waters. “I wanted to be a more insightful guide.”
Eleven years ago, Konigsberg followed some friends to North Idaho and hooked up as a guide with ROW, which has permits to run rivers from the Moyie at the top of the state to the Owyhee at the bottom.
“There are some amazing rivers here,” he says. “When I came here I was totally eye-opened. The Nez Perce culture was brand new to me, and I found out how rich it is and how alive it is. And then there are Chinese rock houses on the river and the awareness of how many Chinese miners were here. Chinese were Idaho’s largest cultural tribe at one time, and it’s why we have Chinese restaurants in the middle of nowhere.”
Konigsberg began devouring various histories of the people, events and wildlife specific to the rivers he runs.
“My goal when I’m out there is when I flip by something, I can give people enough of a story that gets them interested, and maybe that sparks a conversation where they ask me more, or they go home and look into something,” he says.
“People may ask if there are grizzly bears on the Middle Fork of the Salmon. And I say there could be except there is no food mass. And there is no food mass because there are no salmon,” Konigsberg says.
He is mindful that the people in his raft are paying customers, “so I don’t preach,” Konigsberg says. But he is an enthusiastic narrator. “I enjoy being able to interpret some of the history. I like to explain what we are seeing.”
He believes people do take away lasting impressions of the landscape and a realization of how fragile it can be. He credits heightened awareness as a factor in Idaho politicians’ backing the creation (after eight years of negotiation) of the Owyhee-Bruneau Wilderness early this year.
“Over the years I believe people we brought through there, to get them familiar with the river, spoke up and said to their Congressmen and Senators, ‘Hey vote for this,’” Konigsberg says.
“Absolutely,” Sedivy agrees. “Koni’s boss, Peter Grubb, went to Washington, D.C., to help educate members of Congress. Koni and Peter and guys who work in those landscapes — and Idaho outfitters and guides in general — are some of the best advocates for the protection of Idaho rivers and streams,” Sedivy says. “Koni is one of the most passionate.”
Konigsberg says, “We hope to get our guests to come to love the area as much as we do.”
To learn more, visit idahorivers.org.
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