May, ca 2019

There is a dying time in these northern territories. When the raw cold of winter takes the weakest of the wild things and puts them to the earth, stealing breath and being. I can observe not one callous nor cruel part in it, just the spinning of this planet and the comings and goings of all life.

That unfeeling season, tho beautiful to behold, is now taking its leave and I am sorely pleased for it.



The mountain passes has cleared some, so me and Ol’ Black Tahoe, my trusted steed, took to trail and rid south through the valley at dawn. We kept Bitterroots to our west and Sapphires to our east as sun’s daily duty was taking place behind mountaintops. Down along the East Fork, among the cottonwoods and willows, we saw quite the number of elk, them that bitter chill laid no claim to, and I imagined them to be reveling in warming day to come.


We made our way up and over mountain peak, and at Lost Trail we wondered down again into Idaho territory.


The way was clear and more of elk was delighting in new grass growing near to cover of forest and hills.


We come eventually to the community of North Fork, just a small spec of a settlement deep into the Salmon-Challis National Forest.

We then headed due west and come along the Salmon River, what makes its course from the Sawtooth until meeting up with the Snake along Oregon border. That water was running fast and deep from snow what was melting in them high mountains and making way through creek and winter stream into the main flow.

Weren’t nary a living soul to be seen in them early hours, but birds and more of elk were abundant.






We trailed some 50 mile back into that canyon landscape following river’s edge until we finally met up with Panther Creek. 




Changing direction to south, we spotted a few mule deer what paused to have a look at these visitors to their country.






Deeper in, we was presented with the rush and whirl of fast water crashing over rock and log for some 20 mile.








We come to a point where no further passage was possible, the trail being blocked by boulder fallen from mountainside.



It is much the joy to be up in these high places where eyes are treated with the Great Creator’s many delights of nature and now, too, His season of growing things. To still possess my own breath and being is reason enough to be thankful, yet I am even more so for His kindnesses shown to me in wandering these lovely Rocky Mountains. I have not died today. And that is a fine thing. Yours truly…

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