Halloween at the Farrer House

Dad's
Amanda's
Dan's





Darn Kids!

Fish Tales

Fall is always busy at work. I’d rather be busy than bored, but sometimes it gets too crazy. So, when the opportunity presents itself, I try to maintain a small grasp on my sanity by fishing. There is something about the flow of big water and the promise that a trout might strike that calms me. Catching fish is nice too.

A few weeks ago I had to drop off a trailer full of canoes at Camp Little Lemhi, and since the camp is right on the South Fork of the Snake River, I just had to stop and wet a line. I fished in the camp lake for awhile but the trout were not interested. So I went down to the River to give that a try. I had asked around and found that an emergent stone fly pattern was doing well so I bought a few. I tied one on and after only a few casts I had a fish on the line.

After a nice fight I landed this pretty little cutthroat. I took a quick photo and let it go back to grow some more. I fished until it was too dark to see. I got lots of strikes but couldn’t hook any more. When I reeled my line in and went to clip the fly off I found out why. Sometime after I caught the first fish the end of the hook had broken off. That’s taking the barbless hook thing a little too far.
This time of the year we visit each of the council camps for post-camp inspections. I usually don’t have much time to fish on these visits. I got a little fishing in at Island Park but my favorite spot on the lake wasn’t producing. It had been that way all summer. I walked up to the Warm River which flows through the camp and caught one little brookie. It wasn’t even worthy of a photo.

Two weeks later we drove Salmon River High Adventure Base. Early fall is steelhead season on the Snake River and there were lots of fisherman on the river. Just as we arrived I rigged up my rod and line to see if I could catch a trout. I used the same fly that produced on the Snake—but I made sure this one had a tip. I decided I would allow myself only five casts and then get back to business. On my second cast as I was watching the drift of my fly and I saw a flash of silver and, Wham!, the fish hit my fly—and the fight was on. I pulled in a nice cutthroat, took a photo for bragging rights, and just after I snapped the photo the fish flipped off the hook and made its escape.

After we had completed the camp inspection I slipped down to the river to try my luck before we had to head home. On my second cast I felt a strong strike on my line and as soon as I set the hook I could tell I had a big fish on my line. It had been a LONG time since I had hooked a big fish (since leaving Alaska) and this one really gave me a battle. For tippit I was using a length of heavy line that belonged to my Grandfather Frank Farrer. It was much heavier than I normally would have used but I was feeling nostalgic and I probably would have lost the trout if I had been using a lighter tippit. I finally landed the fish and it was another beautiful cutthroat. A quick photo and the fish went back into the river.

Winter is coming on fast and I’m afraid my fishing is over for the year. I’m glad I’ll have the memory of that nice cutthroat to last me until next spring. I have found time to fish twice since then—but that’s not worth discussing.

Farewell to Summer

The kids wanted to take another trip down a river. That sounded good to me. I gave them a few options and we decided to float the South Fork of the Snake River in a raft. That would allow Wyatt to come along and we wouldn’t have to leave anyone behind to babysit. So we borrowed one of the Council’s rafts, paddles, and PFD’s and drove to Swan Valley. We dropped a car at the takeout and put in the river just below the Palisades Reservoir, near Little Lemhi Scout Camp.

It was a beautiful day—perfect for floating the river. Wyatt did NOT like wearing a life jacket but he loves water so much we were afraid he might just jump overboard. He was pretty fussy because he didn’t like being so restrained. (At least that’s what I think—he really didn’t say.)

Derek and I fished off opposite sides of the raft while the others paddled. Periodically I had to interrupt my fishing to steer—a minor inconvenience.
The best part of the float was shortly after we launched when we reached the haystacks—a series of waves that gave us a good rollercoaster ride for about one-hundred feet. The rest of the float was pretty calm. We passed Falls Creek Falls which is always very scenic. Just past the falls the river gave us a full 360-degree spin before we knew what hit us. That was fun too.




Someone once said, a little boating can greatly enhance a fishing trip, but too much boating can ruin a good fishing trip. That was the case for Derek and me. We passed lots of drift boaters fishing and they would all stop to fish in the good holes. We didn’t really have any way of stopping—short of jumping out of the raft—and our crew wasn’t too interested in our attempts at fishing. Every few casts the only person in the raft who thought she could boss me around would ask, “are you going to fish or steer?” Just because we were drifting towards a rock or a tree wasn’t a very good reason to disturb a good cast or drift. I’m sure that’s why I didn’t catch anything. It couldn’t be my lack of skill.

We decided to make it a short trip and took out just above the Swan Valley Bridge. That’s about a ten-mile float. Derek and I fished from shore while the girls drove back up the river road to get the other vehicle. It was a beautiful day, a nice float, a grumpy baby, and great company. The fish can wait for another day.