Waist-deep in a shady pool, I wrestled a particularly squirmy trout for possession of my last bead-head Prince nymph. When my eyes wandered to the sandy bank, the rattler woke from his doze and stuck his tongue out at me. If he had hands, he would have flipped me off, but he was leaving, so all was right in the world. I salvaged the fly, let go of the vividly colored trout and exited to the other side of the Donner und Blitzen River. Ho-hum, just another day in this wonderful desert paradise of southeast Oregon.
It’s not the end of the world, but you can surely see it from the Blitzen. That’s
