First River

We started from the trail head around noon, a long line of people walking on the trail; the boys, their cousins, uncles, and grandfather with his stick made from juniper. We hiked for an hour and a half, first through birch forest, then above timberline. The grandfather ran off on sidetracks to check out the cloudberries on some marshes that he is keeping an eye on.

On a place were we cross a small stream, we stopped by the canyon to eat lunch. We had a lunch package with 30 sandwiches and a bottle of concentrated black current syrup. Then we just add cold water from the stream before we drink it. All the time a golden-eagle couple was circling above us, screaming and complaining since we were close to their nest.

We climbed down in the canyon, to let the kids fish trout in the river, in a pool under a white waterfall. We were apparently the first people climb down this summer, as seen from the grass growing in the trench where we decent. After an hour, the kids had pulled 19 trout out of the water. The trout are still flipping for a long time after they’re dead. That’s why we load some rocks on, to avoid loosing the fish between the boulders.