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Salmon
We ended our adventure with salmon, not fly fishing, but on a search to find salmon up high returning to their home waters to spawn. Before they are all gone, could we find a few survivors?
Bear Valley Creek that I’ve mentioned previously and Marsh Creek join together and become the famous Middle Fork of the Salmon River. We spent an afternoon along Marsh Creek in the broad meadows of its headwaters.
A downstream view looking at the start of the canyon of the Middle Fork.
The quiet took us back in time. Back to when tens of thousands of salmon returned to these waters to spawn. Back to when this broad valley rivaled Yellowstone with its herds of bison, elk, pronghorn. Back to when the predators still roamed, grizzlies and wolves. It was impossible to beat back the question, “What have we done?”
Taking much time and slowly, deliberately moving along the stream, we searched. We found one salmon.
We sat out after our wanderings and waited for the stars and in the morning we said goodbye to this special place.
There was a message from our friends at Fort Sagebrush, Steve and Diana. Earl, the Superduty was repaired. The camper was back aboard. They were headed out to spend a few days on the Imnaha and Indian Crossing Campground.
Enroute, we again overnighted at Upper Payette Lake, this time in the rain.
We rendezvoused with the Sagebrushers at Indian Crossing.
We all had a great time together. Most importantly, Diana and the Lady got caught up with games of Scramble.
The Lady and I returned to the Blue Hole.
We climbed high for views into the gorge.
Downstream, we began our search for salmon.
We found six. Their presence here was magic.
As was the completion of the circle.
The weather turned overnight with rain coming in. We said goodbye to our friends the next morning.
Thank you, Steve and Diana for your friendship, generosity, and incredible hospitality. It was time to head back to the house. We needed a route that kept us off the dreaded Interstate, a route where we could find remote campsites in the sage.
With grand open vistas to help us sleep soundly.
And old roads to walk to discover what’s around the corner.
Places to interact with ghosts of the past.
Yearning for the least amount of pavement possible, our adventure ended with a long slow drive across the Sheldon National Wildlife Refuge and the final sanctuary of the Overnight Cabin.
The storm moved to the south after giving us a glancing blow. We sat out in the quiet and took in the final evening of this trip.
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