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Annual Report

This is the infamous year end summary, sort of along the lines of the Christmas card with the letter stuffed inside.  I'll omit the photo of the dogs with fake antlers.  Some of you may remember Gene Hill . He was a well known outdoor writer,  and, I'd wager that he's still popular with the wingshooting crowd.  He occasionally wrote a piece for the sporting magazines titled "The Annual Report". I'll credit him with the title of this piece and absolve him of any responsibility as regards the content that follows.
Well, let's see, I still fish with a camera slung over my shoulder, and rarely hike without it either. Admittedly, packing an SLR is a pain, but I still think it's worth the hassle.  When I look back over the year or years, I can pinpoint dates that an event occurred.  Aha, fish that day, bugs that one, a seventy degree March day and so on. So, I can plan out my annual fishing trapline based on my meager experience with hatches, water conditi…

Overnighter

Welcome to Wyoming.  Nothing like a little scenery to go with ones fishing.  Camping too.  Take a hike.  Just a few miles to stretch the old legs.  Get out in the wind.  Blow the stink off as my wife would say.





Best have a fishing license.  You never know when Mr. Warden will show up.  Riding a horse no less.   Maybe talk about fish and bears and stuff.  Then, just like any good cowpoke, he'll ride away.  What a great way to spend the summer.






Like mountains?  Well, there's lots of 'em.  Better have a camera.  Keep it handy, you'll want to take a picture every few steps or so.





Smell that?  It's fresh air.  Well, maybe with a little forest fire smoke thrown in.  Then there's the sweet smell of grouse whortleberry.  What's a whortleberry?  I'm glad you asked.  It's a member of the blueberry or huckleberry family.  They're small, but good eating.  Go good in pancakes too. Gotta be patient to pick the little buggers though.





This is high country, bro…

Four Days, Forty Miles

An old cliche...the shortest distance between two points is a straight line.  My feet don't know that one.  Nor do Forest Service trails through the western mountains.  Trails go wherever lumpy terrain dictates.  And, if you're a hiker like me, it's easy to get sidetracked and go cross country in order to investigate some out of the way body of water.  It's only a "few" extra miles.
So I bumped my way up the Boulder River road with the intention of hitting the trail and covering a few miles before dark.   But, I was played out from work. And, it was still warm.  Common sense prevailed.  I camped at Hicks Park instead.  Besides, I prefer to hike in the cool of morning.
Morning, true to form, I was much more chipper.  I broke camp, packed my pack and drove to the Box Canyon trailhead.  I was on the trail by 6:45 a.m.  My itinerary over the next few days would take me through some scenic high country.  Here then are some photos.  Enjoy!





























I made it to Pentad Lake…