My trainer in guide school had warned me that saddle horses tied together on a trail are among the stupidest animals on earth.
Hitch a seasoned pack mule between them and they’re usually fine, but left on their own “they turn plum’ idiot,” he’d observed dryly while stuffing tobacco into his lip. Continue reading
IN THIS ISSUE! Boise, Cambridge, Eagle, Emmett, Malta, McCall, Murphy, Nez Perce National Forest, Oreana, Parma, Priest River, St. Anthony, White Bird
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
My tenth year was a big year. I began brushing my teeth up and down instead of side to side, I almost learned to tie my shoes, and I time-traveled—a hat trick, to be sure. Continue reading
I’m almost forty. I feel much younger, but realize I am not. I love the hunt, chasing whitetails with my dad in the steep, green mountains of northern Idaho. I respect the game, and to me harvesting a deer is personal. Continue reading
One of my first of many business trips to Idaho came just after a huge storm hit the Burley and Rupert area in the early 1980s, extending all the way to Twin Falls. I found it remarkable that I-84 wasn’t plowed, because the state government didn’t have the money to plow it. The interstate was lined with thousands of pheasants, which had come to the edge of the pavement and for some reason had simply died. Continue reading
Mexican grilled street corn and homemade horchata. Continue reading
Long before the south side of the Henry’s Fork Greenway in St. Anthony was named, we skied along the route every snowy winter. Continue reading
“Oreana—Population 8, Maybe 9.” That hand-painted sign tacked to a telephone pole greeted me as I drove down the hill into the little community of Oreana for the first time in 2005. Continue reading
I was five years old when I walked into my grandma’s house with a baby bird I’d found on the sidewalk. With tear-filled eyes, I announced in a determined voice, “It needs my help.” And so it began. Continue reading
