Where the Deer and the Antelope Play
And seldom is heard a discouraging word, and the fish laugh about us all day
I had a few pangs saying goodbye to Veneta. It was nice to spend some time with family, and the farm there is something special. My route out of Eugene followed the beautiful McKenzie River, and I resolved to come back another time to fish it with my brother.
We made it as far as Ontario, OR, on the border with Idaho. Just a quick night in a cheap motel, and off we went on the road again. Handle With Care rolls up on the playlist, and I realize I have a big goofy grin on my face. On the highway with Liesl, and Thirsty, and Agnes, not sure where exactly we’re going to go today, I’m just happy to be going. Liesl puts her ears back only a little when I sing along to her.
I had in mind to investigate more of the Snake River, particularly the birds of prey conservation area. But it’s not the best time of year for the raptors that raise their young in the canyon, and I have to juggle time between work and driving. We do some aimless driving around the area and head for Utah, get another cheap hotel room outside of Salt Lake City and try to sort out the rest of the week.
One of the more frustrating things for me as a solo traveler is the lack of help in choosing and navigating a route. A passenger can check maps, look for details on campgrounds, compare hotels or AirBnB’s, and note any interesting attractions along the way. Without that, I am too often making a quick decision at a gas station to get a hotel room and try to keep moving. Part of it is the effort in setting up and breaking down, but part of it, too, is just the mental exhaustion of comparing options. And now I’m trying to find streams to fish, too.
Knowing that I’ll be taking a day off work and camping for a few nights at the expo, I decide to embrace it (another words, use that old problem solver, “throw money at it until it goes away”) and reserve an inexpensive AirBnB for two nights near Baggs, Wyoming. Tuesday afternoon we set out across one of my favorite landscapes, southern Wyoming.
I have in mind to keep an eye out for interesting jewelry shops; the night Agnes broke, I dropped my big red carnelian ring in the tent, grabbed it, and stashed it somewhere I thought it would be safe. I couldn’t remember where that was, and have spent weeks looking through all of my things. I finally accept that it’s gone, probably in the mud at Teddy Roosevelt park (I even called the rangers, asking about lost-and-found). Maybe I’ll get a replacement somewhere around all the fossil digs.
Baggs, WY: nearest Fitzlabs City: Cheyenne, WY: Cheyenne's climate in 2080 will feel most like today's climate near Hurricane, Utah. The typical summer in Hurricane, Utah is 12.3°F (6.9°C) warmer and 44.6% drier than summer in Cheyenne.
Wyoming is where the sky plays with the earth. Clouds throw shadows onto the land in sharper relief in Wyoming. Tendrils of rain stream in the distance. Lightning crackles and streaks, or strobes the undersides of clouds in the distance. Sometimes the sky glows electric blue, bouncing light off landforms.
Yes, I like Wyoming—but I’m not crazy about their winter.
The AirBnB is a little hard to find; there’s no cell service at all (but, somehow, the ranch has high-speed internet.) But after just one turn-around on the dirt road, I see it in the distance and we get settled in quickly. It’s quite lovely; horses, goats, and chickens roam the property, and the Wyoming sky show continues.
Liesl fusses a little when we go to bed the first night, and I take her outside again—and gasp at the brilliant Milky Way overhead.
It’s a good stay. I get my work done and clear the decks so I can take Friday off for the expo. But there are no trout streams close by, so I put that idea aside for another time.
Thursday afternoon, we head for Colorado, find the events center, and make camp practically in the middle of the expo for the weekend.
I will go out of order a bit here, and tell you about Overland Expo in another post to follow. Let me tell you more about Wyoming.
After the expo, we retrace our route back through Wyoming, making as much distance as I could on Sunday afternoon and evening. We land in another hotel room and I get up as early as possible to get my work done on Monday.
A friend had given me a good lead on the Hams Fork River, in southwest Wyoming, as a possible good choice for a beginner, and I am determined to check it out. Liesl accompanies me to the Sportsmans Warehouse counter and we both try to act like we know what we’re doing as I get a fishing license. We don’t fool anybody, but she gets a giant treat. And off we go.
It’s exciting to begin crossing the river after Kemmerer, as we follow it up towards the dams. We pass a few spots marked as public fishing spots. I want to fish just under the upper dam, where the water should be cooler. So we keep driving, making stops to gawk and play.
But when we get to the dam, I can see it’s a long walk, and I don’t think I can manage it with Liesl and gear. So we drive even further, all the way to Bridger-Teton National Forest, but I can’t tell what’s private property and what’s legal to fish.
Still, the drive is gorgeous, and I fall in love a little more with the area.
There’s so much to figure out just to find a place to fish. Eventually, I turn around and head back, passing the reservoirs and dams again, and stop at the first river spot marked for public access, below the lower dam. I know the water is too warm here and now, but the river is pretty close to the road and I’ve got to do something.
Predictably, I don’t catch any fish, but I get to practice casting and everything with the gear. Liesl is free to roam the banks, wearing her red PFD. I coax her to wade in for a few treats, but she’s not ready to swim—and I’m not eager for her to dive on her own anyway. It’s all too easy to imagine the little rat-weiner disappearing around the bend from view, carried along on the current in her bright red floatation jacket, fat woman running downstream after her in a panic.
I worry about her with rattlesnakes, but after the expo, she needs off-leash time to just be a dog, and I give it to her.
We pass a pleasant couple of hours alone with the river, the magpies, and the osprey. (They didn’t get any fish, either.) And gawk some more on the way out, spotting a Golden Eagle snagging some dinner and getting lovely evening-sun views of Pronghorn Antelope.
I’m tempted to try to stay the night in Kemmerer; it seems like a nice little town. And maybe try to fish again. But instead, I decide to make the most of my cheerful energy, and we end up going all the way to Provo, UT for the night.
Next post will be about Overland Expo, which I skipped above.
FYI, The Grateful Dead did a benefit concert in Veneta 8/27/72, almost exactly 50 years ago! They did it to help out a local creamery. It's a great concert. Loving your and Leisl's continuing adventures! It's so cool that you're learning fly-fishing.