As kids, we called them periwinkles.
Lots of rainbows (or maybe steelhead parr) plus two cutties who won their freedom before I could get photos. West side of the Washington Cascades, a new spot
I was told by an ONP ranger ten or twelve years ago that the lakes I’d be passing (Hoh River area) were full of small brookies and “harvest is encouraged.” The lakes were indeed teeming with small brookies.
Yesterday’s Olympics lake was full of them, too - they hit a dry caddis with abandon. I wonder when and how these got here, so far from their native range
This was a multi-day backpack in the WA Cascades.
It was my pal, not me, that got the perfect king bolete
As I passed them walking:
Preteen girl #1: Gum doesn’t count
Preteen girl #2: Well, you pay for it
Preteen girl #1: Yeah, but gum’s not a necessity
I think, 1954 and 1956
Can anyone tell me about the other mark?
They were all 11-15”, and I got ‘em on dries and a stripped wooly bugger, as in the picture. My spin fishing pal did about as well as I did, 5 or 6 real beauties each.
An obscure but cool find at an estate sale
Tasty, and beautiful in their own way.
San Juan Islands, WA state.
Not great picking - 11 oz, two pickers, four hours - but lovely and some decent size
It’s early, so they’re small. 90+ morels weighed less than a half pound
Picking in a burn is . . . somber and can be odd. The fire reveals metal items that had been buried in underbrush, like the truck lugnut cap that was also blued by the fire