Little House by the Lemhi River

Salmon, Idaho

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Water park

Picnickers at Salmon’s Island Park will have no trouble staying hydrated this weekend. The river is at flood stage and the National Weather Service-issued flood warning is in effect until June 7. Logs and other debris are carried by the rushing water as if they weigh nothing at all. Dog-walkers that I met are anxious for the water to recede so they can once again bring their canine friends to Island Park, where leash laws are not in effect for most of the day. The bridge to this park, as well as the pedestrian bridge spanning the river, are closed. 

The Lemhi County Farmers Market opens for the season Saturday at Veterans Memorial Park adjacent to the river. As excited as residents may be to buy locally grown food and handmade crafts items, it may be the Salmon that is the main attraction.

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Rhubarb, say cheese

Rhubarb was a long-forgotten ingredient until coming to Idaho. It was hidden beneath the snow when we first toured what would become our house. A friend was the first to notice those immense ruffled green leaves when we moved in months later, post-snow. It went ignored last year and was flattened beyond recognition by cattle that made their way into the yard. It survived and came back even stronger this year. 

Rhubarb is not shy in front of the camera. It is just begging to be photographed. It’s hard to resist the backlit veins, the way the leaves became giant snow cones a few weeks ago, and the intriguing flower that shot up this week (it’s history now, but the photo remains). 

Rhubarb grew along the fence when I was growing up in Minneapolis. Grandma Christie made strawberry rhubarb sauce using the fruit* grown in her garden. I still remember the always-too-small bowls she ladled it into. Today, I made my first-ever rhubarb crisp using this easy-to-follow recipe. It has just the right mix of tart fruit* and sweet topping: http://thriftyjinxy.com/classic-rhubarb-crisp-recipe/

Facts: Technically, rhubarb is a vegetable but was classified as a fruit in 1947 by a New York customs court. That meant lower tariffs for importers. The leaves are high in toxic oxalic acid.

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I’ve seen worse

We were under a winter storm warning that affected much of Idaho and Western Montana. I’d be surprised if an inch fell at the Little House by the Lemhi River, which is still running strong. No time-lapse showing a pica pole buried in snow. That may have to wait for another year. Still, it was fun to have some snow for Syttende Mai, aka Norwegian Independence Day. And as the Norwegians say, “There is no such thing as bad weather, only bad clothes.” 

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Lilacs for Mother’s Day

Lilacs bring back memories of growing up in Minnesota. Our neighbor grew purple and white lilacs. She’d let us cut some to take home to fill the house with their fragrance. Thousands of bushes once lined parts of Highway 100, the Beltline, also known as Lilac Way. Roll down the windows and enjoy that Sunday drive in the country. The suburbs grew, the highway has been widened and the landscape sacrificed for efficiency of travel. 

The lilacs I tried to grow in California didn’t smell as wonderful. Winters aren’t cold enough, I was told. Or maybe the variety was’t as fragrant. They were a real disappointment. When we bought our house in Idaho, we discovered that a previous homeowner had an appreciation for lilacs. I waited last year for the blooms to arrive. Nothing. This year has made up for it. Buds formed. A late frost couldn’t stop the blooms. A wind storm couldn’t knock them from the branches. Branches are filled with flowers, arriving just in time for Mother’s Day. I’m about to bring some inside. My mom’s advice: shake the bugs off first. (more after the photos)

Still with me? Here’s a story about the Highway 100 lilacs: http://forgottenminnesota.com/2014/10/lilac-way-the-showcase-of-the-beltline/ and a video if you don’t feel like reading. It’s an interesting history of this Depression-era WPA highway project that influenced growth in the Twin Cities.   http://video.tpt.org/video/2365042732/

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Snow is melting, rivers are rising

I checked out flooding along the Salmon River, which is expected to peak at 8.5 feet on Saturday, according to the National Weather Service. That’s 1 foot above flood stage. Some homes near the river may be affected. The road leading to where the Lemhi River flows into the Salmon is closed. A newcomer like me is impressed, while also overjoyed that there isn’t major damage so far. Lifelong residents say they haven’t seen water this high before. The Main Street Bridge has become a gathering spot. In other years, they may have gathered around a picnic table at Island Park, currently submerged. Here’s an Adobe Spark video showing how high the water is at the Shoup Bridge and in town. 

https://spark.adobe.com/video/wFEOk6R0uXoQJ

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Sandhill cranes walk through a meadow in Salmon, Idaho, on Sunday, April 30, 2017. Yup, a teleconverter would have been great. Maybe someday. 

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A beautiful wakeup call

I wasn’t sure I’d get back to Salmon before the start of next year, but lucky me. I caught a ride on a Cessna 182 (more on that later) and expect to be here for a few weeks. The haze of summer from nearby fires has given way to crisp, clear air and vibrant autumn colors. This scene is what made me jump out of bed this morning and grab the camera. 

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These white-tailed deer — a doe and two fawns — seem to know the limits of a 300mm lens as they pass through the yard. Extreme crop. Freyja wants to play with them. 

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Who can refuse a free cabbage?

Saturday morning brought a trip to the Lemhi County Farmers Market, held in a downtown park next to the Salmon River. Today I bought a bag of green beans and two fresh-out-of-the-ground Idaho potatoes for $2.55. Oh, and would I like a free cabbage? Sure, as long as it is a small one. Cole slaw is ready for dinnertime. I also made a new feline friend. 

A cat shows its appreciation for furniture for sale at the Lemhi County Farmers Market in Salmon, Idaho, on Saturday, Aug. 20, 2016. The furniture vendor said the cat frequents the weekly farmers market because it enjoys the people, and she doesn't bother to wipe off the paw prints. 

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Freyja plunges into the Lemhi River, showing off her stick-retrieving form.

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While the house is being painted and flooring in some rooms replaced, let’s turn our attention to the outdoors. I appreciate the effort previous owners put into the landscaping. My challenge, as I do not have a green thumb, is to keep their great taste in gardening alive. Along with being surprised as the shrubs came into bloom, it has been fun to research what was planted. Please let me know if any of the IDs are wrong. I’ve done a lot of weeding and will have to repeat that chore when I return to Idaho. The watering takes care of itself.

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Nearby irrigation canal overflowed, creating a new river through the back yard. Free lawn-watering and the birds loved it. New blue Bogs boots came in handy. 

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Meet my fascinating neighbor. I’m talking about the wooden structure through which a tree is growing. It’s a beaverslide hay stacker. Beaverslides were used in eastern Idaho and western Montana in the early 1900s until new haying technology came along later that century. I am happy that this one remains part of the landscape and hope to learn more about its past. It may show up from time to time in my photography. Linnea Sando was inspired to write about the“hayscape” of this agricultural region that’s bisected by the Continental Divide for her MA thesis (yes, it’s interesting) at Kansas State University. Keep your eyes open and you may see other beaverslides if you’re driving the rural backroads. 

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Life on the 45th parallel

Greetings from Salmon, Idaho. It’s just a few blips north of the 45th parallel, halfway between the North Pole and the equator, center of Lemhi County, and birthplace of Sacajawea (who helped Lewis and Clark find their way to the Pacific). It’s more than 100 miles to the closest freeway. Count your drive time by the hours if you want to go to a big city. Lemhi County’s population is approaching 8,000, but it seems like almost everything you might need can be found here. This will be our part-time home. Right now it’s just me and Freyja, our golden retriever. After being downsized out of job, it feels like a good place to find peace and happiness — a place where I can calm down from living under constant deadline pressure. The photo on the current cover of this blog is the view from the living room. It is accompanied by the music of the Lemhi River as it flows past the property on its was to the Salmon River. Pretty darned serene. BTW, the 45th parallel also runs through Minneapolis, where I was born and raised. The more things change, the more they stay the same.