Nov 9, 2023
The day is supposed to be nice after the clouds burn off,
but the water on the river will be clear and cold.
The river has places where a guy can just park his truck and start fishing.
I suppose that if i didn't know the river well, that might be a good way to get out and at least be fishing.
I don't mind walking a mile or so to get to a spot that I used to fish when i was a boy here in the valley, in the 70's and 80's.
I need the exercise anyway, and the colors are worth it.
There are deer trails here that go in all directions, but i never see any other bootprints. I guess I am the only one that takes the time and makes the effort to get to where I go.
It'd be a shame to miss the fall colors, and working up a sweat is sometimes needed (especially early in the morning) on the route as the winter comes.
It can get bitter cold down near the river. "As cold as a stepmother's kiss," a phrase my grandmother frequently used.
The smell of the grass and the cottonwood leaves is rich and fulfilling.
All of the hornets and bugs that used to drone in the summer are in suspended animation now in their dens, or in a different stage of their lifecycle.
Now is the sound of robins and other birds migrating through. Eating serviceberries and snowberries and oregon grape. Mostly females, as the males are less likely to migrate.
They probably want to maintain their foothold on their territories hard won, and highly sought after by other birds.
They'll get into fights to hang on to their space. It is a matter of survival to them. I can relate to wanting to hold on to a spot that is special.
I'd be reluctant to give up a spot like that too.
There were fierce battles in and among these woods around the time of the discovery of gold here in the region.
In the 1830's, settlers came here and at first everything was peaceful. Then when gold was discovered, it brought more settlers (lots more.)
Some would call it an invasion (sound familiar?) of the native homeland to the people of the Rogue river.
As resources were finite, competition arose, and battles erupted all throughout this specific region.
To the native people, the wealth of fish and game and harvests of sustainable resources like roots and berries, were as just as valuable as the gold was to the invaders.
The US Amy was involved and adopted the policy of, "if you see an Indian, kill him."
The natives adopted the same policy towards the invaders. Massacres ensued and the history of this place was written with the blood of those involved.
In 1856, there was a reservation less than a couple of miles from this spot on the river.
One of the most famous of the native people was named Kintpuash.
Kintpuash's name in the Modoc language meant 'Strikes the water brashly.' The settlers knew him as "Captain Jack," and he led his people in battle.
The Army launched an attack on January 17, 1873; the Army was left with 35 dead and many wounded, while the Modoc suffered no casualties. They understood the territory and used the Lava beds over by Klamath falls as their hideout.
It proved to be impenetrable to the US Army.
He held off a numerically superior force for several months.
Kintpuash was hanged by the army at Fort Klamath in southeastern Oregon with three other Modoc leaders on October 3, 1873. He was the only Native American leader to be tried and convicted as a war criminal.
To the Native people the notion of a "war criminal" was unheard of. Once the battles started, their mindset was, "either we win or we die."
I believe that in some ways, Kintpuash was like the robin, and we all know history is written by the "victors."
I think it is a very sad chapter in the history of this place.
The river rolls low and clear and cold this time of year.
Although there are steelhead in some part of the river all year round, the ones I am after are called "summer run."
They enter the river at Gold beach and in the summertime, and by fall they are usually up to the area near the dam.
I like to use really sharp hooks that I tie hangback style with heavy dacron line to the spoon.
I think the heavy treble hooks that come with the spoon hang up too easily on debris and rocks and they can be tough to remove without harming the fish if you are going to release it to continue its upriver trip.
We release all wild fish here this time of year, keeping only the ones cranked out by the hatchery.
It is hard to think of this place as a battlefield.
Golden light washes over the canopy
through the scarlet and yellow leaves.
The sky is high and clear and free.
The robins carve through it all,
to get to where they need to be.
I was able to enjoy the hike and see where history unfolded in the not so distant past.
I'm glad the only blood spilling along the river today is from what will be enjoyed as dinner tonight.
For more stories about the outdoors, check out https://toddduncantennyson.substack.com/
The day is supposed to be nice after the clouds burn off,
but the water on the river will be clear and cold.
The river has places where a guy can just park his truck and start fishing.
I suppose that if i didn't know the river well, that might be a good way to get out and at least be fishing.
I don't mind walking a mile or so to get to a spot that I used to fish when i was a boy here in the valley, in the 70's and 80's.
I need the exercise anyway, and the colors are worth it.
There are deer trails here that go in all directions, but i never see any other bootprints. I guess I am the only one that takes the time and makes the effort to get to where I go.
It'd be a shame to miss the fall colors, and working up a sweat is sometimes needed (especially early in the morning) on the route as the winter comes.
It can get bitter cold down near the river. "As cold as a stepmother's kiss," a phrase my grandmother frequently used.
The smell of the grass and the cottonwood leaves is rich and fulfilling.
All of the hornets and bugs that used to drone in the summer are in suspended animation now in their dens, or in a different stage of their lifecycle.
Now is the sound of robins and other birds migrating through. Eating serviceberries and snowberries and oregon grape. Mostly females, as the males are less likely to migrate.
They probably want to maintain their foothold on their territories hard won, and highly sought after by other birds.
They'll get into fights to hang on to their space. It is a matter of survival to them. I can relate to wanting to hold on to a spot that is special.
I'd be reluctant to give up a spot like that too.
There were fierce battles in and among these woods around the time of the discovery of gold here in the region.
In the 1830's, settlers came here and at first everything was peaceful. Then when gold was discovered, it brought more settlers (lots more.)
Some would call it an invasion (sound familiar?) of the native homeland to the people of the Rogue river.
As resources were finite, competition arose, and battles erupted all throughout this specific region.
To the native people, the wealth of fish and game and harvests of sustainable resources like roots and berries, were as just as valuable as the gold was to the invaders.
The US Amy was involved and adopted the policy of, "if you see an Indian, kill him."
The natives adopted the same policy towards the invaders. Massacres ensued and the history of this place was written with the blood of those involved.
In 1856, there was a reservation less than a couple of miles from this spot on the river.
One of the most famous of the native people was named Kintpuash.
Kintpuash's name in the Modoc language meant 'Strikes the water brashly.' The settlers knew him as "Captain Jack," and he led his people in battle.
The Army launched an attack on January 17, 1873; the Army was left with 35 dead and many wounded, while the Modoc suffered no casualties. They understood the territory and used the Lava beds over by Klamath falls as their hideout.
It proved to be impenetrable to the US Army.
He held off a numerically superior force for several months.
Kintpuash was hanged by the army at Fort Klamath in southeastern Oregon with three other Modoc leaders on October 3, 1873. He was the only Native American leader to be tried and convicted as a war criminal.
To the Native people the notion of a "war criminal" was unheard of. Once the battles started, their mindset was, "either we win or we die."
I believe that in some ways, Kintpuash was like the robin, and we all know history is written by the "victors."
I think it is a very sad chapter in the history of this place.
The river rolls low and clear and cold this time of year.
Although there are steelhead in some part of the river all year round, the ones I am after are called "summer run."
They enter the river at Gold beach and in the summertime, and by fall they are usually up to the area near the dam.
I like to use really sharp hooks that I tie hangback style with heavy dacron line to the spoon.
I think the heavy treble hooks that come with the spoon hang up too easily on debris and rocks and they can be tough to remove without harming the fish if you are going to release it to continue its upriver trip.
We release all wild fish here this time of year, keeping only the ones cranked out by the hatchery.
It is hard to think of this place as a battlefield.
Golden light washes over the canopy
through the scarlet and yellow leaves.
The sky is high and clear and free.
The robins carve through it all,
to get to where they need to be.
I was able to enjoy the hike and see where history unfolded in the not so distant past.
I'm glad the only blood spilling along the river today is from what will be enjoyed as dinner tonight.
For more stories about the outdoors, check out https://toddduncantennyson.substack.com/
