Wednesday, August 24, 2016
My humans brought my outside on my leash. There were these weird mousies all over the
place. There were so many of them I
didn't know what to do! But I do know
that as long as I am tethered to that darned leash, I will not be able to be
the feline that I am. I let them think I
was a mild mannered feline. Then, my
human let go of the leash and I could chase them! I showed them who is boss! Bwwaaaaahhha!
Meow!
Since our fishing hole is kind of fished out, we skipped our
morning outing and visited with our neighbors Jeff and Mary Pat. We then headed to the walk to the Robinson
Bar Ranch and back. It is a getaway day
and by the time we eat and ready Hannah, it is after noon. Oh well, on to 75 north we go, towards
Challis.
Even though we were on this road the other day, it looks
quite different going north. The
mountains are rugged but arid. The
valleys have alfalfa farms and riparian corridors loaded with aspen and
poplars. It is noted as a scenic drive
on the AAA maps, and it certainly is spectacular. We have a crisp blue sky with puffy white
clouds with just a hint of gray. There
is barely a tinge of smoke in the air.
We check out a few little camping areas but decide to head up to North
Fork, where an ex-neighbor has a motel and RV park. We can get an oil change down in Salmon, so
this seemed like a logical destination.
The RV park is smack dab on the Salmon River. We stayed here last year and enjoyed it
immensely. It has full RV hookups, but
no bathrooms or any other amenities. The
owner, Ken, told us about the 'honey hole' for fishing. You go in between those two buildings, walk
past the tire with a tree in the middle, climb the berm and go through the
bushes... Off we go, like Andy and Opie.
The creek is only about 15 feet wide at most and loaded with
bushes and ' hook snatchers!' I spent
all this time practicing casting for distance and now I have to cast about 8
feet and not get the tree trunk. This
ought to be easy... After a few embarrassingly measly attempts, I do more of a fling, and I get hit. Each time I throw the line in, I get
hit. We both caught some fish, but we
only kept one as it would be too injured to throw back. Dinner it will be at some point. It does not look like a stocked trout in that
the fin that is normally clipped for stockers is intact. Ohhhh!
Shhh, don't tell anybody about our honey hole!
Rudy seems a little disappointed that there are no chipmunks
or squirrels around.
No comments:
Post a Comment