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best year we went to the south fork of the Salmon River. A tribe called “The Sheep Eaters” referred to the salmon as “The river of no return.” I was at that time a squad leader with about six men in the squad. More about this later.
We rode in a bus made out of two by fours and celotex painted gray, the driver and assistant scout leader was named Clauson. I do not remember the leader’s name but he was a very likable young man and belonged to the Mormon Church. Our troop met at his church. , We made the camp near the river. Nearby was a hot spring and a small pool where we could have our own jacuzzi. About 10 miles before we got there we had some real excitement. Out the window we saw a large salmon swimming in the rapids with his back clear out of the water. The bus stopped, everyone ran to the river. My brother Jim got there first and picked up the fish. The salmon flipped and flopped and beat Jim up so bad he had to drop it. The driver, Bill Clauson arrived with a hatchet and killed the fish. We all had broiled fresh salmon that night!
I and a scout named Paul decided one morning to hike up a nearby peak where we could see a fire lookout cabin. Without telling anyone we took off. It was further than it looked because the trail wound around the mountain. There, a man and his wife showed us every thing they did. It was interesting to see how they could locate the exact spot where they saw smoke. We could not stay
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