A Secret Sanctuary Story and Photos by Karlene Bayok Edwards I wish I had let Paul kiss me that night in Charlie’s Garden, with the sun dropping behind the mountains, the moon reflecting off Payette Lake, the dusky air warm … Continue reading
An Unstoppable Little Brother By Karlene Bayok Edwards Photos courtesy of the author Ronny must have been almost four when he followed our dog Pete into the woods. We lived on a hill outside McCall and much of the land … Continue reading
A Call to Yesteryear By Julie Conrad Photos courtesy of Julie Conrad Smelling the sweet scent of overripe huckleberries, I ditch my car and walk along the lane where our old cabin still stands, although our family doesn’t own it … Continue reading
It Was Even Better Than Dishwashing By Karlene Bayok Edwards In 1966, not long after my thirteenth birthday, I began washing dishes eight hours a day, forty hours a week, for $1.65 an hour at the now-defunct Kitchen Café in … Continue reading
A Thing Full of Potential By Karlene Bayok Edwards “Joe, if that parachute is from the dump, the kids can’t touch it until I’ve washed it,” Mother said. Dad stood at the edge of our yard in McCall, his arms … Continue reading
Wilderness Lessons Story and Photos by Kelly Poirier We headed down the trail to Goose Creek off McCall’s Brundage Mountain Road, unsure of what we would encounter. Our initial steps filled me with curiosity and enthusiasm. In the first thirty … Continue reading
A Between-Houses Interlude By Karlene Bayok Edwards Photos Courtesy of Karlene Bayok Edwards I returned from college that summer of 1972, not to our McCall home, which had been sold, nor to our Jughandle Mountain home, which Dad was still … Continue reading
And the Humans They Encounter By Karlene Bayok Edwards Back in 1961, as we drove home to McCall after a week of camping, a large black bear walked out into the middle of the dirt road in front of us. … Continue reading
Art Changed Our Lives By Kitty Campbell Widner Photos Courtesy of Kitty Campbell Widner In the 1950s in McCall, my friends and I were quintessential housewives, but none of us was the pathetic character sometimes portrayed in the media. Our … Continue reading
At dusk they came gliding through the branches of the Ponderosa pines, floating on skin outstretched between paws fore and aft, silent, intent on insects. Continue reading
