Tag Archives: Idaho
We decided to make our first visit to Waha Lake today and see how it would be for fishing. The 94-acre lake has trout, bass, crappie, and pleasant scenery of the Waha Mountains and lots of trees. Waha Lake is south of Lewiston, Idaho, about 45 minutes from our home in Washington near the Idaho border. We hold fishing licenses for both states.
After driving down an unpaved hill to the parking lot, it was obvious that our truck and boat trailer wouldn’t fit. Vic barely managed to get them turned around so he could unload the boat at the ramp. He tethered the boat and returned to the top of the hill where there was room to park our Ford 150 and trailer, and walked back to the dock, which took just a few minutes. I remained with our boat while chatting with an amiable lady fishing from the dock. Her husband was fishing from the shore, and he caught a large trout and hailed her to let her know he had “one on!”
It was my turn to be skunked, but Vic caught two hefty trout, 14-1/2 and 12 inches. I helped him net them so they would not escape–trout can be canny about staying on a hook.
The scenery was serene and refreshing, and the lake was quiet. Very few fisherman were out, and none were in boats, except for one kayaker. I think it’s likely we will return soon.
I chat with a woman fishing while Vic parks our truck up the hill from the boat launch.
Vic runs Pisca-Dory’s motor.
Rocks and plants along the shore
Vic’s 14-1/2″ trout
A canola field provides colorful scenery along the way home.
My husband has a couple of cases active that remind me of his strength and superior-being diplomacy skills, and also of why I’m glad I retired from practicing law. I proposed a road trip, and he was up for it and happy I was feeling well enough to suggest it. I’ve gone 10 days without a migraine, but for the most part, I’ve been subdued, cautious, and somewhat uncharacteristically soft-spoken. Migraines originating with trigeminal neuralgia can be triggered by talking, noise, and cold, and I have taken up a walking-on-eggshells posture with all of the above, as much as possible.
Since I hadn’t yet been to Orofino, and have heard it is a beautiful drive of under an hour from Clarkston, I suggested that be our destination. The route follows the Clearwater River from Lewiston, along US-12.
Except for one over-wide truck, the load of which projected a good four feet into our oncoming lane, the drive was as peaceful as it was beautiful. Because of my subdued, contented mood, I wasn’t up for taking pictures so much as just enjoying the river out the window, and from a pretty park where we made a picnic of some cheese, fruit, and chips from a pleasant grocery store in town.
We went into a shoe store to see whether any of the cute and practical shoes in the window came in narrow, but that was too much to be expected. The rareness of narrow-width shoes notwithstanding,chatting with the owners was pleasant beyond all expection. And I did score a couple of rare finds there: some pink merino wool socks, and an extremely well-orgaized clutch bag with a strap that would free my hands for taking pictures; but I still wasn’t up to taking more than these few on this excursion.
We went on another 20-some miles to Kamiah, just to see its downtown and surrounds; I thought it looked more run-down than quaint, and took no pictures for lack of inspiration.
The highlight of the day came when we had been home for 10 or 15 minutes, and I realized we hadn’t once spoken of my husband’s frazzling cases today. In fact, neither of us had thought of them once. Mission blissfully accomplished.
In the two years we’ve lived in Washington/Idaho border country (Wadaho), I’ve seen nothing of Idaho but Lewiston and Moscow. So for my birthday road trip, we retraced part of the route my husband took to Boise last month for the fruitful task of being sworn in to the Idaho State Bar, to White Bird Grade, so that I could see what all the Beautiful Idaho buzz was about. We set out in a moderate rain with a forecast of thunderstorms. The rain lightened, and beautiful thunderheads gathered, making for a spectacularly photogenic sky, but the storm never broke.
A sunny afternoon, we took a fine and pleasant drive, 40 minutes or so, to Waha, to counter some creeping drowsiness and saw the most amazing saturated greens in flourishing fields of wheat and alfalfa.