The Salmon River is certainly one of the best in Idaho. It made me almost wish my miniature poodle was a Labrador retriever so that she would have jumped in the river and swam her heart out. But she wouldn't even get her feet wet.
We ran into a good ol' boy in a pickup truck who told us about a spring, up the road 'a piece.' The road was fairly smooth, just as he said. The first clue were the marshy and tall plants that stood out from the surrounding sagebrush.
I got off the bike and walked towards the possible spring. Sure enough, I could finally hear it. What a marvelous sound! Could there be any more authentic western experience -- that is, non-touristy -- than jumping on my horse (aka, my mountain bike) and looking for and finding a spring? Nothing is more precious than water in this gawd-forsaken, barren wasteland.
My little dog wanted to celebrate the occasion, a ways downstream:
I can't think of anything better to do with my time than looking for a spring.
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