Widow Peak in the distance (the closer peak to the right is Lookout Mountain)
1
I am hiking with my good friend Will who has hiked this trail a number of times. I am grateful to have him as a hiking companion.
Hiking in from Breezy Point, we find ourselves on the edge of a burn area . The trees are like a black and white photograph, sprouting from the green growth of early summer reaching for the clouds.
In the meadow, I stumble across Conversations.
2
After a small rise we begin going down to cross a saddle between Breezy Point and Lookout Mountain. Just past the low point in the saddle, we find water and fill up our water bottles in the shade of the Hemlocks. We begin to cross patches of snow as we ascend Lookout Mountain. Will remembers a spot with a nice view which we easily find. We decide to stop for lunch. It feels good to stop and enjoy the many guests.
3
Walking across Lookout Mountain.
Freeze and thaw, Fragments cresting… I watch my step!
4
Coming across the saddle on the other side of Lookout Mountain we are back in the shade of the Hemlocks. There are many prints in the trail of deer and elk. The fragrance of birdsong fills the air. We cross two creeks and a spring. The water coming out of the ground flows cool and fresh!
Following the current, Summer sun… Dancing!
4 Arriving at Widow Peak I am am exhausted. My tiredness shows in my efforts to set up the tent and make dinner. It seems like a lot of time goes by before I sit and rest.
Clouds traverse the sky, Riding the breeze… Hemlocks waving.
I arrive in McCall greeted by unseasonably cool and wet weather and meet the Camp Director. He apologizes for an empty camp and the rain, both not ideal for our reason for being here. The empty camp was expected because of COVID. The weather, which started as a dry and hot spring has turned into a wetter and cooler one. It is decided to make the most of it by taking a few photos around camp then making our way to the marsh. After hiking a ways in the marsh, the rain is coming down harder and I find a place to rest in the company of a large boulder poking through the brush and a single stem of small yellow flowers.
Rain on the marsh pond… Its fragrance soaks the forest, Dripping from the pines
2
The Hotel in Idaho Falls is very crowded. There is a softball tournament happening this weekend! I like baseball in all forms and it is fun to see the gear and the excitement of the young players. However, a nervousness prevails at the lack of physical distancing in the hotel hallways as I am thrust into an energetic mask-less crowd.
Faintly seeing through The dusty hotel window… The bird’s morning song.
3
In Tetonia, a person I met at the facility guides us to a nice spot on the edge of the canyon above the Teton River. In the distance, the Grand Tetons rise into the clouds. It was a good start to our visit at this location; to see a favorite spot of someone who, when asked, “Where are you from?” answered, “Just down the road.” It struck me that someone could spend their entire life in one place and be content. It felt to me the landscape was part of him and he part of the landscape.
In the summer sun… The ancient basalt surfaces, Whispering their tales.
4
A drive through the Salmon River Canyon from Stanley to Salmon:
The humming of tires, Fading into the spectrum… Canyon’s evening light.
5
Arriving in Salmon the streets are empty. It is after dinner and the summer sun is shining late on the longest day of the year. I stop and ask directions to the Stagecoach Inn. Two patrons keeping their physical distance banter back and forth until they are sure of its location. I am grateful for their kindness and find the hotel easily. I inquire about a riverside room and am awarded one because it is a slow night. Another reason to be grateful! I unpack some food and sit on the balcony over looking the grassy shore and the Salmon River. A man wearing a protective mask walks his dog to river’s edge and for a moment they both stand in the rushing river’s silence.
I wake early and returning to the balcony, enjoy a warm breakfast in the cool morning air.
Over the mountains, Peaks the morning summer sun, Dancing with the leaves!
6
On the last day of the journey I drive through rain along the Clearwater River. It the first rain since day one in McCall. The fog rising from the river and skirting the mountain ridges reflects the evening sun. This has a settling effect after a week of many miles and long days. Arriving home I am too tired to do much else but sleep. In the morning I wake up early and smile.
Striking its own chord… In rhythm with weed eaters… Cricket’s morning song.
We begin our hike from Elk Creek Flat Trailhead. My friend Will, his dog Zivon, and I are taking our first hike of the season to the Wenaha River which flows 2000 ft. below. It is the warmest day of this spring’s season and I can feel the heat as we descend. We are welcomed by many wildflowers in bloom: Alsike Clover, Creeping Barberry, Fringecups, Larkspur, and Lupin just to name a few. As we get closer to the Wenaha, we come upon many downed trees across the trail. Some are a challenge for use to climb over or go around.
On this warm spring day… Flowing about blooming stones, The creek hums a song
We arrive at the Wenaha. Our intention is to wade or find a log to cross the river, but as we arrive, the river’s current is too fast and deep. We decide to set up camp and look for a crossing in the morning.
Day 2
We enjoy breakfast next to an old campfire ring. After eating we scout up and down the river for a possible crossing, but do not find any. During our scout I find more blossoms: Prairie Smoke, Meadow Salsify, Miner’s Lettuce, and Virginia Waterleaf. We discuss hiking back up today and driving to the headwaters of the Wenaha to hike in from there. However, we decide to stay enjoy this area on the banks of the river.
The Yellow Goat’s Beard… In the day’s conversations, Does not flinch an inch!
Late in the afternoon the winds pick up; we get some thunder and rain. I put on my rain gear and make dinner. The rain stops about the same time I finish eating. I find myself appreciating quick dry clothing and a good raincoat. Will’s dog Zivon is not feeling well. We think about hiking back up, but decide a hike up would be too challenging for all.
Day 3
The thunder clapping… Brings gusts of warm and cold winds Into the night’s dreams
After the night’s rain, the air is fresh and cool. Zivon is feeling better and again lively! Will and I are both relieved. After eating we pack and head up the canyon back to the trailhead.
Peaking between leaves, I find two blooming Orchids, Who catch me spying!
From the forest floor… A hole in the canopy, finds the wild rose.
On our drive home, we enjoy the many conversations.
I am spending time working in the garden digging holes and planting. I dig a hole, plant seeds or seedlings, dig another, plant another. I look at the plants and seeds I’ve already planted. As they begin to grow they all look the same, tiny and green. But as they grow their uniqueness will become more apparent, firstly in their leaves. As we move from spring to summer and into fall, some will share flowers, some fruits and others vegetables. All the while they maintain a sameness in their interactions with bees, butterflies, hummingbirds, the sun, wind, rain…
Hovering above, Obscured by wings of a gnat, A hawk in the sky
I am waking up after a morning nap. Cradled in my arms is my grandson, Rudy. I am holding him for the first time. The doctor gave the okay for close family visits with restrictions. I am freshly showered, in clean clothes and wearing a mask. Now Rudy wants Mom so I get up and begin work fixing a dishwasher. I go to the hardware store to purchase a part. I enter wearing a mask and receive help from a maskless sales clerk. Finishing my purchase I go to the hotel to shower again and put on clean clothes. Clean, I return to see my grandson with my mask in place. Idaho begins stage one reopening today. The traffic and crowds are proof, but on my travels home I see only one person wearing a protective mask. I wonder how stage one will finish and how stages two, three, and four will play out. I am grateful to experience the joy of visiting my grandson and would like to visit again, even if I need to shower and wear a mask. This reminds me, the mask is to protect others, not myself.
Mountain spring snowmelt The river’s edge erodes, where Bulbous Bluegrass sway
While jogging on a sidewalk a young person approached me. As we got closer to each other the person stepped far to the side. I immediately recoiled before switching to a relaxed feeling of gratitude. The person nodded and I nodded in respect for each other’s safety, practicing social distancing.
There was a lot of data to intake about social distancing this week. Both in the world and decisions that need made about my job. I wondered what side of the fence I should be on. Stay at home or go out and keep the economy going? Both sides say the other lives in fear. I wonder if both sides fear the same thing? I ask myself, what is the best way to be while respecting the lives of all involved?
A hair in the tea Showing and hiding itself Tea cup in my hands
On my second visit to the arboretum in Moscow in two weeks, I find myself there on a cloudy day. Both times I started off my walk with the thought asking, “Why couldn’t it be sunny?” Maybe this is the photographer in me thinking there is always something that could be better. Or, maybe it is my capacity to want to be somewhere other than where I am. Today I was able to let that go and take in a few good photographs.
Fragrance sings at dawn Birds among the tree blossoms The clouds settle in
The trail was dry and dusty as we began our walk. It was not crowded, but the few people we saw did kick up dust that blew in the wind. We ran into a couple on horseback. One of them said they had been there many times and it was never windy, but whenever she came with her partner, it is always windy. It was good to know why the winds were blowing on this day!
Along the plateau we came across a few old ponds. At the second pond, among the many birds we heard the call of a Yellow-headed Blackbird. We spotted it on some reeds drinking or eating from the pond. Soon after our stop at the pond, we headed down toward the lake where there were many downed trees from a fire.
Across the trail lie Dead trees fallen to the ground Graciously giving
We found our way to a viewpoint over the lake. Ducks and waterfowl floated on wind swept waves. Others soared overhead with motionless wings carried by the wind. As we began our return along the lake, within the burned areas, we passed a number of young aspen groves.
From under charred ground Reaching for the empty sky Aspens shoot upward
Putting the key into the ignition, I realize it has been seven days since I’ve driven. On State Route 270 the only car in sight is passing, we nod and share a wave. Arriving in town I take a walk on Main Street. It’s hard to believe it is a weekday lunch hour. I walk by two people and keeping our distance we nod and share a smile. I pause gazing up and down the street. Across the way there is the sudden sound of a door closing. The proprietor engages the lock.
Twist of a key ring Echoes up and down the street… A choir of bells
The trail is dry and hard. I might think it is late summer if it were not for the cold gusts of a spring wind that makes me stumble off the trail finding something a dog left behind. Another gust of wind arrives and I stumble, almost stepping on small spring flowers. I arrive at a bench and sit, tighten the zipper of my coat, and place a hand in each pocket.
Cold Spring wind blowing Tall grasses bend and shiver Deep roots hold steady
A geologist once shared with me that the mountains and buttes in the Palouse region are the tips of granite mountains whose valleys were filled 6 to 17 million years ago by the eastern edge of the Columbia Basin flood basalts. Each peak is made up of the same material, but on my walks among them, I find each is unique. I have walked all of the peeks pictured on this page except for Tomer Butte which I have circled on my bicycle. That route follows Lenville Road to the Genesee to Troy Road, and then returning along the Latah trail. It is a beautiful ride. I photographed this series in the fall and winter of 2017.
Ancient granite peaks grassy ruts in wind blown loess look! a shooting star
Paradise RidgeSteptoe Butte
Kamiak Butte
Tomer ButteBald Butte
Branches waters clouds Mountain gifts for I to nest Swallowing the moon
