petak, 28.10.2011.



Picture Of Gold Nets

picture of gold nets

    gold nets
  • Calochortus luteus, or Yellow mariposa lily, is a mariposa lily endemic to California.

  • (Gold net) A gold net is a naturally occurring piece of native gold. Watercourses often concentrate the nets and they are recovered by placer mining, but they may also be found in residual deposits where the gold-bearing veins or lodes have been weathered.

  • (Gold Net (mango)) The Gold Net mango (or, Golden Net) is a named mango cultivar that originated in south Florida.

  • Represent (someone or something) in a photograph or picture

  • Describe (someone or something) in a certain way

  • visualize: imagine; conceive of; see in one's mind; "I can't see him on horseback!"; "I can see what will happen"; "I can see a risk in this strategy"

  • Form a mental image of

  • a visual representation (of an object or scene or person or abstraction) produced on a surface; "they showed us the pictures of their wedding"; "a movie is a series of images projected so rapidly that the eye integrates them"

  • painting: graphic art consisting of an artistic composition made by applying paints to a surface; "a small painting by Picasso"; "he bought the painting as an investment"; "his pictures hang in the Louvre"

picture of gold nets - Wallmonkeys Peel

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Clearwater River along hwy 12

Clearwater River along hwy 12

On their 1805 journey to the Pacific Ocean, the Lewis and Clark party made a rough horse crossing of the Bitterroot Mountains between Montana and Idaho and north of the Lochsa River. When they camped along the Clearwater River near the present town of Orofino, Idaho - - they built canoes from large cottonwood trees.

Then they floated down the Clearwater River; then down the Snake River; and then down the Columbia River, running some pretty impressive whitewater in places I might add (some of the men didn't know how to swim).

Standing here looking up the Clearwater River I can almost picture the colorful team in their various canoes, bobbing down this section of the Clearwater River.,,, glad to no longer be pulling boats upstream or riding horses through difficult canyon country, and no longer without food. So close to their destination, the mood must have been upbeat when they passed this way in 1805 on their way west.

This is one of many photos taken on a three day trip to the Lochsa River country of Idaho (7.30.10 through 8.1.19). What follows is the story behind this trip, if you are interested:


July 30th through August 1st, 2010, I took a three day trip to the Lochsa River country in Northern Idaho. Crooked Fork Creek and Colt Killed Creek join to form the Lochsa River; The Lochsa River and Selway River join at Lowell, Idaho to form the Clearwater River; the Clearwater River joins the Snake River at Clarkston, Washington and Lewiston Idaho.The Snake River then flows west until it meets the Columbia River.

The Lochsa River drainage is red, scenic and rich in history.

I have traveled Lolo Pass (highway 12), which travels along the Lochsa River for over 30 years but rarely having had the time to slow down and explore the area, to hike it, drive “back road” routes and really enjoy all that it has to offer.

I saw a photo of a 1924 fire lookout on top of Grave Peak, Idaho on flickr several years ago and decided then that I wanted to hike there. Later I learned that the top of Grave Peak was where a young Norman Maclean (author of a River Runs Through It), served as a fire lookout as a 17 year old, back in 1919. He wrote a semi-auto biographical story about his adventures at nearby Elk Summit and his assignment as “fire lookout”on Grave Peak [USFS 1919: The Ranger, the Cook, and a Hole in the Sky",] I had read that story years ago.

A friend later loaned a book to me titled: The Lochsa Story by Bud Moore. In that book the story is told of “Isaac’s Gold” and a prospector named Jerry Johnson. Some hot springs in the area, which my wife and I hiked to this year, were named after that Jerry Johnson. Like the Lost Dutchman mine, the story goes that an Indian, named Isaac, knew where gold nets could be found among the Bitterroot Mountains. While leading Jerry Johnson and his partner to the gold, Isaac dies. Isaac’s gold source has never been found (of course), which keeps the legend alive. Grave Peak may have been named after the Indian Isaac, who died on it or near it.

Grave Peak resides south of the Lochsa River among the Bitterroot Mountains. To the north of the Lochsa River was the setting for another great story - - the Lolo Trail.

Lewis and Clark learned from the Shoshone Indians that the Salmon River canyon was too red to travel and that the Lochsa River canyon with its extremely steep canyon walls that pinched together at the river was not a good route west. So with the aide of a Shoshone guide “Toby”, the Lewis and Clark party traveled by horseback along the high spine ridge above the north side of the Lochsa River in 1805. They returned following most of the same route in 1806.

Lolo Trail as the route is now known was used for centuries by Native Americans, such as the Nez Perce, to travel back and forth to bison country both before and after the acquisition of horses. Lewis and Clark met the Nez Perce on the west end of the Lolo Trail and were given food by that tribe. That food included something new on their menu, the roasted camas root bulbs. Nutritious but of acquired taste, many of the Lewis and Clark party became ill from eating too much camas bulb.

Lewis and Clark suffered from lack of food along their nine day passage of the Lolo Trail route on their way west. They ate at least one or more of the colts that they had with them as they were unable to find and kill any big game in the area. They were able to kill a few grouse (they called them pheasant in their journals) and jays, but nothing large enough to sustain the group. Colt Killed Creek, one of two streams forming the Lochsa River was named by Lewis and Clark from one of the areas they resorted to killing one of their young horses, for meat.

NOTE: A young horse is called a “foal”. A female young horse is a “filly” and a male young horse is called a “colt”. Some folks incorrectly use the term “colt” to describe a young horse of either sex.

In the 1930s the CCC (Civilian Conservation Corp), widened, impr

river of gold

river of gold

Going home. Really home to the exact spot where you were born, where your first memories took place, where your beginnings flourished to make you that person that you are today. In Idaho, my old hometown where I felt quite strange the whole time. Could have been my fever (and Amaya's too, we both had the start of sinusitis). Or it could have been that weird feeling in my stomach of completing a full circle in your lifetime and imminent death if you finish something. For me, the three days were filled with dread, I had a constant fear that we were going to die. Every sharp turn on the road, each unprotected mountain bluff, the quickly running river and slippery mossy rocks that I perched my feet on.

I have only seen my dad twice since 1989. And even then as you can imagine we dont have much of a relationship though we have a common pride of each other. He is the rough yet highly learned mountain man living in the woods as he wishes. With an outhouse and no running water. I am his dream daughter running off to France (he speaks French and lived in France a couple of times).

"What made you decide to come here?" he kept asking. Actually it was my sister's idea, but she had to bow out for a speaking engagement. "You should go see dad" she plied. And I am glad that I did. I got to show him his granddaughter who was a jewel and kept a pretty good temper despite her up and down fever and grumpy moments. She tried soft serve swirl ice cream and deemed that wonderful. She picked huckleberries and ate most of her stash along the logging trails. She loved the Nez Pierce Indian Museum and best of the all: the library!

"It's so sad and run down here, the complete oppositve of Seattle and Portland's oppulant wealt," my husband reflected. There had been gold in the river and nets are still found if you have the patience to pan. It was a mining town for garnets and other precious stones as well but mostly it was a town of hard knocks and unfulfilled dreams.

It was where Lewis and Clark lost of ton of men who froze and starved to death in its harsh winter conditions. It's also an awesome picture of nature: tall pine trees, grazing elk, glittering fresh (and fast moving) river filled with rainbow trout. Everything here glimmers and glistens for me. I look past the rusted log trucks parked next to trailers and decrepit fences with alcohol bottles littered along the dry, crisp spans of weedy lawn. I wanted to take photos of these things, these ruins of life, the unused lumber stacking up for new homes not to be built, the ancient mill that only functioned at 25 percent these days. But it felt uncouth like taking a photo of someone dying on life support.

I can sense death. I can feel it. Maybe in those valleys of trees, I could hear the tree fall. And that is why I was happy to move on to Montana where my spirits brightened considerably though I know my heart will always be in that clearwater river pounding with the flakes of unfound gold and spawning fish, going back home.

picture of gold nets

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