While we were living near Margie I gave some of my extra fishing poles to her boys and I took them fishing. We did pretty good sometimes and I enjoyed having this to do with my grandsons we fished mostly in the Provo River, but sometimes I went to Deer Creek Reservoir and I used to like to watch the base swim around and around. We could watch our hooks and bait, then all of a sudden they might decide to take it, maybe come in quick, then change their mind. At Deer Creek I got some pretty nice fish. It was interesting to watch the water in the river. Sometimes it was so clear I could see the fish watching me through the water.
I had some interesting fishing trips with Lavern’s new husband, Dewey Chidester. We went over to Wellington on our vacations and went out to Joe’s Valley and really caught some good trout. Lavern would cook up a pan full with bacon strips and we would eat them and then we would catch some more. It makes my mouth water just to think of it.
On another trip we drove the pickup and Dewey pulled a trailer up to Ferron Reservoir. It was a wonderful place to fish and there was a large snow bank where Rusty loved to play. I was so surprised to see that even up in the mountains like this there were dandelions everywhere.
The mountain was steep and we went through some water on the way back, then discovered we had lost our brakes and it scared us. We topped and let them dry out then we went safely back to Wellington and home the next day. Dewey and Lavern came to see us a few times while we lived in Provo.
Where we lived we could see the whole circle of mountains around Provo. That was one of the things we liked about being there. This is how I have tried to describe it. The scenery surrounding Provo was grand. The lake to the west was beautiful and especially at sundown when the sun was shining across the water reflecting the colors of the sky or looking brassy or gold. Sometimes the water was ripply and other times it was very still. I will never forget the pleasure I had in living there and seeing this and the everlasting mountains raising their solid bastions to the skies with Timpanogas lying asleep. Never to be disturbed but broken through by the canyon of the Provo River. What centuries it must have taken to make that canyon by steady, continual erosion, the beautiful sides of the mountain, changing into differed robes with the seasons. In the spring there is a lovely new green of grass and brush and trees, mingled with the rocky cliffs that tower so high. It would seem impossible to climb but when nearer seen and better known are crisscrossed by pathways that are unseen from below. As the seasons go on, she changed robes again, the oak brush becomes red, the quacking aspens put in their bright yellow and then the beautiful maples scatter their gorgeous hues of color. Then with the first snows they put on their white bonnets usually lasting till spring. The sight is so grand to see and remember. When I think of the glories of the earth I hated to leave such beauty. We should not let such things become old and common because they are constantly seen.
Estella had a special feeling about these mountain, too, especially Mount Timpanogas. There is a very lovely Indian legend about it. Sometimes when she was cleaning the rooms upstairs and she needed a break she would throw open a window (you couldn’t see through these chapel windows), even in the winter, and drink in the rugged beauty and partake of the peaceful message that seemed to come from those mountains.
To be continued…