Return to Smith Crick

Sorry, no toilet paper.  The cook at Camp 126 had her own one-holer, while the crew shared a 4-holer.  

Yum! Yum!  Pretty in Pink Bovine Pie

We practiced the "new normal" yesterday.  After a tough morning of reliving the devastating memories of last Saturday's loss of Kea, Bill asked if I'd like to go to Smith Creek.

That sounded like a good idea.  So, we loaded up Kiwi and Foster and some munchies and headed off to the place west of the Kootenai Valley near the Canadian Border where Bill spent his first summer with the Forest Service back in 1974.

He had a couple of goals:  to see the aftermath of the large fire in August that burned from the mountains down into the valley, even crossing the Kootenai River and to take some photos around his summer home of Camp 126.

He says he's planning to prepare a power point program to go along with his "Crick Fishing" story in the last Sandpoint Magazine.   

Smith Creek has been among his favorite "cricks" for fising over the past 41 years.  

We accomplished Bill's goals and enjoyed a few short hikes in the process, later taking off on a longer walk, dotted by mega cow pies,  in a beautiful area behind one of those many locked gates that are so common in the woods these days.   

As we passed by the fire area, both going and on our return trip, we could see just how hot the blaze burned as it made its way down the hillside and crossed the Westside Road, turning trees black, leftover needles brown and foliage to ashes---definitely an eerie sight. 

And, yes, along the way, we herded a few "renegade cows" with the truck.  Well, actually, they were cows that belonged up there for summer grazing, but none of them really seemed to know where they wanted to go, so we spent considerable time behind them as they eventually figured out how to step to the side of the road.

Yesterday's trip was a good break from sad memories of this past week.  I'm glad we went, and I know Bill was.  He never really needs an excuse to go back to Smith Creek where he spent his first summer getting to know the back country of beautiful North Idaho and its addictive "crick fishing." 

Looks alike a beautiful Sunday ahead.  Have a great day.