Idaho Chaviar

There is a phenomanon that occurs here every summer. It begins to swell in anticipation in late July with cars and trucks full of moms and dads and all the kids, heading into the forest roads. Looking for any sign that things are ripening, with August comes the frantic running among the trees and bushes to see who can pick the first juicy ripe berry. Huckleberry season is upon us again, and I must admit, the fever has gotten me, so off I went, pail in hand. Four hours of backbreaking work produce 4 cups of the fragrant berries, enought for a batch of jam, thus preserving the delightful taste all thru the winter. Another trip for more of the delictable little goodies, 4 more hours of picking yeild 5 more cups. Squander a cup for the most outragious homemade ice cream imageable, 4 cups to the freezer, saved for huckleberry pancakes, when the snow is flying, maybe a cupful for the special cheesecake at Christmas, WOW, the possibablities are endless. Truely one of Gods great gifts.

I Lost a Friend Today

Andy came west during the depression days from Chicage, he said he left because there wasn't enought to feed him and his brother, so he joind up with the CCC and ended up in Utah. Went to college and became a school teacher and later ran a goverment school. Came to Lava the year I graduated high school. He showed me all his honey holes up and down the Portneuf and we spent his last few years of fishing, chasing the big one. Plenty of mornings having coffee here at Johnies cafe. He left us a few hours ago, goodbye my friend, and remember Andy, "You don't eat the Peaches".