Fall Harvest

Please come and claim tomatoes from our garden. Too many to eat, must have help!

Fresh Salmon

It is a bad sign when you have to read your own posts to find out when the last time you blogged was? I guess it has been a while. AND as usual, I have a lot to say.
Let's start with our river trip on the Main Salmon:
We took a week and did a beautiful, last trip of the season, new river, great adventure, adventure.

Fewer people than usual, which makes for a less dynamic social situation which has its benefits and drawbacks. The river was beautiful (as I am an advocate for clean water, not like the flowing mud of Southern Utah) and new, which means a little adventure around every corner. I must admit though, it was a little flat. I wasn't driving the boat most of the time so I can't say it wasn't challenging enough but I will just put it in these terms: It didn't feed the Hansen Demon. If you know what I mean.

Trent (and the rest of us out of view) rigging in the dark. Long drive. Really long drive.

Elliott is happy here.
The Otto Barge.
Buddy, the constant and loyal companion who despite his Poison Ivy, raw feet and lack of sleep got on the boat every morning, ready to conquer the river. That's my buds.

He was soooo tired. All he wanted to do was lay in the willows on the beach. Nothing else was good enough, except the lap and arms of a lady. He loves the ladies.
It was cold, windy and wet for two of the days on the water. I have a sick love for this kind of weather it makes me feel like I am surviving something, especially since I go my "Mystery Shirt". I feel a little bit like a super hero and it makes me row a lot faster.

Kimball was not happy. This was the first time I thought that those ridiculous dog rain jackets might be a good idea.







There were also a few days that were unbelievably hot. I love that about the unpredictable river weather. Maybe I should become a meteorologist.

Sometimes if you are a dog and you are black, you need a little sun bonnet.


They call the Salmon, The River of No Return . There is something different, peaceful and welcoming that I haven't felt on any other river his season and I was literally depressed to come home. A little sick to my stomach.

I read a numerous stories in our guide book about people who suffered great tragedy and still felt compelled to return to this canyon. The connection to this particular stretch of wilderness is tangible. I can't wait to go back.