Where Water Buffalo Roam

Salmon Run: exploring the Elwha River Valley January 2017 By Andrew Fast There was a time when we were cowboys, sailors, and natives living in a world of vastness that started at the edge of my driveway. The great density of adventure lingering like a low hanging fog on the bay behind my grandparents house on the Puget Sound or as palpable as wind on the tent wall of our family camping trips.  Loading up an aluminum flat bottom boat with snacks and abecedarian spears made of grandma’s old silverware on the end of a broom handle, we’d point the nose upstream against an outgoing tide.  Shirts tied around our heads, one man standing on the bow scouting for fish and the other at the stern.  Tilting the prop to clear the shallows and leaving the blade flaring loud like a long tail boat in Southeast Asia. It was our Mekong River. That was back when folks gave boys of eight or nine as much freedom as they could take.  So we would take it all.  And later, tucked in and topped