Dad
I used to be my dad's shadow when I was kid, and I often wondered back then why I wasn't born a boy. It would have made a lot more sense. IF he headed out the door hunting or fishing I was right there behind him. I don't think there was ever anyone who could walk through the woods like he could. Quiet as any Indian ever dreamed of and fast as a deer. I used to have to run to keep up and He was always fussing at me cuz I couldn't walk quiet like he did. I remember many times he would say Damn Linda can't you walk without swishin those pants??? Now that I am older I think the reason for that was I had thighs (girl thighs) and He didn't and also the fact that he wore wool pants and I wore jeans with long johns under them. Well, when jeans get wet and frozen they swish - I can verify that from experience. I remember trying to follow him through the woods in the snow clear up to my chest. I must have been a brute for punishment cuz I always went with him every chance I had.
I remember one time we went fishing for bull trout down elk creek. Elk creek is down in the swan valley. How he ever found this place I will never know. It is straight down a hill about a mile. which isn't so bad. The creek itself is pretty small and crystal clear and you could see those big ole bulls just layin in the bottom getting ready to spawn. There was a log jam across it and they usually laid just under the edge of it. He was always telling me to be carefull so I didn't fall in and get sucked under.
Anyhow this one trip down there just Him and I went. We caught 7 bulls and they weighed a total of 49 pounds. What a sight, they are beautiful fish. Well it was getting on toward evening when dad figured we had caught our limit (and probably then some) and it was time to go, so he found a thick limb and strung those fish on it thro the gills and told me to grab onto the back half and he would take the front. I should have known.... by the time we got out of that place I had been slapped half to death by those slimmy stinkin fish and smelled to high heaven. It is a mile straight up that hill with no trail and ya have to grab onto the bushes to keep from falling back sometimes. I think that was the first time I ever got to have a beer with my dad. When we finally got to the top he was grinnin like a fool at me and said I had earned a swallow or 2. He had a couple he kept in the cooler just for times like this. I have to admit nothing ever tasted any better... I wouldn't mind going back there and sharin another beer today with him.