The Salmon and Lemhi River valleys

13 August 2008

Yesterday, we continued along the Bitterroot, in the sawtoothed shadow of Trapper's Peak. We rested in the long grass at an oxbow in the East Fork, before camping at Sula. Jim hitchhiked down from the Continental Divide, for a mail drop, as he hiked the ridge from Mexico to Alberta. As he thumbed his way back to the trail, we started the climb to Lost Trail Pass, from where the Bitterroot flows north, and the Salmon runs south. We touched the Divide, and followed the Salmon River down into North Fork. The alpine forests began to thin out into small farms. We rested at a campground in North Fork, interrupted by three girls, poster children for teenage self-hate and destructiveness, who lost interest after they realized we wouldn't buy them more beer for their two o'clock binge.

Nearing the town of Salmon, the thinning forests succumbed to large expanses of river-bottom farmland. Craggy outcroppings towered over the farms and the rolling hills of sage. We headed east, along the Lemhi River valley, the Divide on our left, the Lemhi Mountains on our right. After a few miles, spent and without nearby campgrounds, we eyed the hayfields for some stealth camping. At Baker, a town of four houses, we knocked on the door of Solaas' Bed & Breakfast, to see if we could fill our water. Without hesitating, Roger offered his lawn for camping.

"Honey, I'm gonna show the boys the garden!", he cheered. His wife smiled and waved, having no clue who we were. He guided us through his greenhoused tomatoes and filled our bike helmets with apricots. A trellised arcade of green beans framed a dusky view of the Lemhis.

Roger, 72 years old, had rooted in this valley some forty years ago. For five years, he never left the county. Not from some cloistered fear of the world, but because here he was starting his life. He raised his ten children, hunted up in the Divide, fished in the Lemhi, and started a lumber business. He spent two weeks straight, handmaking a wood picket fence, jigging and painting each picket, and setting them in a series of peaks and valleys. After setting deep roots, he ventured out, heading to Alaska and Canada to fish and hunt. Recently, he went to Thailand to help build a school. In the morning, he brought us an egg sandwich, fresh from the henhouse.

If you're passing near Salmon, stay at Solaas and say hello to Roger.

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