A Forest Tale

From a Time of Wonder

By Connie J. Thompson

With our picnic in tow, my husband Kurt and I climb out of the truck to search out the old campground. As we walk to the bank of the Big Lost River, deja vu hits me. Surprisingly, the vast granite mountain still feels enormous. Fly fishermen gracefully cast their lines across the rippling waters with an almost hypnotic rhythm. We spread a quilt under a tall pine tree and I pull a piece of chicken from the time-worn cooler. I lie back and cradle my head in my arm. Not far away I notice a family, and just for a moment, I’m six years old again.

In the summer of 1966, the world was full of wonder to a little girl like me. As our family rolled into the sleepy little town of Mackay, I could hardly contain my excitement over being in the mountains again. One last turn down a dusty road and the car squeaked to a stop. At last, we were at our favorite camping spot near the Big Lost River. The day shone its last rays of sunlight before hiding its face as my father, my brother Doug, and my Uncle Bill got busy setting up tents. Sis and I helped Mama make camp from necessities found in the back of our 1956 coupe. It was my job to hold the flashlight so Mama could see but with a trunk as big as that car had, a person could fall in and need a search party to rescue them.

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About Connie J. Thompson

Connie J. Thompson and her husband Kurt are native Idahoans. Raised on a ranch, she grew up fishing, camping, and climbing plenty of trees. Connie’s father was an avid outdoorsman and her mother, a gifted artist, was a master of creative play. She figures this combination is the backbone of her love for storytelling.

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