I'm up early after a good night's sleep at AmericInn in McCall. After carefully repacking the top of the cargo carrier to make sure that my taillights are clearly visible, I set off for Riggins around 11:00AM.
It's a beautiful drive over winding roads through some forested areas. Soon, I find myself in "Hell" or, to be more precise, "Hell's Canyon"...this is the area where three rivers, including the Little Salmon and the Salmon, converge. It's pretty impressive...the mountains surround Riggins, and the sound of the river(s) is loud.
Still, I have to admit to a certain feeling of uneasiness...first, there was the traffic stop last night in McCall...11,500 miles of driving with no problems until here, in Idaho.
Then there's the little matter of the local "cult" up the road about three miles from my hotel. As I'm driving into Riggins, I notice the "Adopt A Road" sign (see photo). Gee, this stretch of road has been adopted by "Yahweh's 666 Warning Assembly"...what the Hell is that??? Later, at the hotel, I "google" that...big mistake...now I'm REALLY uneasy with that "bowl of walnuts" right down the road.
And, arriving at the Salmon River Lodge, I see that the parking lot is empty...not a single vehicle to be seen...not a good sign. I'm interested in booking a charter to fish the Salmon River for salmon and steelhead, so I pick up a couple of brochures and head over to the "Hook, Line and Sinker" tackle shop to get a three-day fishing license. It's there that I learn the "bad news"...timing is everything, and my timing here is bad. It's too late in the season for salmon and too early for steelhead...my fishing options are bass in the Salmon River or trout in the Little Salmon...that explains, in large part, why I seem to be the only "non-local" in Riggins.
I can fish for bass at home, so I opt for trout on the Little Salmon River. There are four or five public fishing sites up the road, so I head over to the first one. I'm using my "pack rod" from Bass Pro Shop, a Shimano "light" spinning reel with 4lb. test line and an assortment of 40 year-old lures from my late father's tackle box. I don't get a single bite, but the fishing spots are beautiful and the act of fishing itself is very relaxing.
Late in the afternoon, I head back to my hotel..for a few beers and some football...it is, after all, Sunday. My dining options are rather limited, but I head out for the "Rodeo Grill", about a 3/4 mile walk from my hotel. Along the way, a doe and her fawn walk across the road right in front of me...20 feet away, tops...they notice me, but they're not frightened away. I stop for a few minutes and watch them walking around someone's front lawn, munching on the occasional shrub...then they're gone. At the Rodeo, I have a pretty good steak (rib eye) as well as a few glasses of Cabernet from Idaho...it's not bad. Dessert is a lemon cram pie...very good...then it's time to head back to the hotel. I watch the late game, Dallas/Green Bay. Then it's time for bed...but not before locking and bolting my door...that uneasiness again.
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