July is a blur of pumping boats and rolling boats and sponging out dories and long drives on two lane roads and pork carnitas night and dutch oven brownies and sunshine and whitewater and cutthroat trout and being so hot I though I might melt and then jumping into cold, clear water and remembering there’s no place in the whole country I’d rather be than the smack dab middle of Idaho.
Main Salmon (My first wooden dory! More to come on that…)
Middle Fork of the Salmon (That lupine though)
Hells Canyon of the Snake (Remind me to tell you about the great anchor fiasco of 2016)
Lower Salmon (When I really got into my bass fishing groove)
A fellow guide and friend, 30 weeks pregnant, arrived in Salmon at the end of one of her trips to say hi to her husband who was getting off the river with us. He was heading back out on a trip, I was driving to Lewiston. “Let’s go fishing!” she said, and we did. Some of my favorite memories of this summer will be watching her slay fatty cutthroat on dry flies and conversations about why the HELL they don’t make better outdoor gear for pregnant mamas. She headed back to town and I took one night to myself on the banks of the Selway River. Solo is the ultimate decadence in July.
Journal Entries Read…
7/20/16 – What are you afraid of? Breaking this dory. Looking foolish in front of guides/guests. Being tired. Not being trusted as a leader. YOU ARE FUCKING EXCELLENT AT YOUR JOB! TRUST YOURSELF!