Barely a road at all that climb over Shafer Summit then cutting off the Boise Ridge Road and on down the back side over washouts and rocks on the switchbacks. Sometimes feathering the brakes, but the grade pretty good for coasting. Then a headlong neck snapping run barely under control past deer, cats, and horses to the bridge at Grimes Creek among tailings and second growth pine. Grimes Creek’s mostly suckers now and a few just planted rainbows,limp and frightened, maybe never was much more. Sunset strings out shadows and the valley darkens as we drift over dusty gravel, uncertain of where we belong. This is the land under moonlight emerging from memory. This is not the way to anywhere. But our way. Somehow, our way.
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