One of the most photographed places in the West is the Wind River Canyon between Shoshone and Thermopolis, Wyo. The river, over millions of years, has cut a deep cathedral of a gorge through rock that changes color from black, to brown to red, depending on the angle of the sun.
Last Wednesday, after searching the steep, rocky banks of the Wind River for a safe place to descend, my brother-in-law Gary Morgan found a perfect spot to fish. It was a narrow, hand-built road on the Wind River Indian Reservation (we'd obtained a permit to fish there) made of large stones that led from the highway to the shoreline.
There, we set up our rods, put on our vests and were preparing to fish when a man, a woman and two children — a boy who was about 7 and a girl who was about 12 — walked down the steep road.
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"We're just going to skip some rocks." The man walked away before he could see the look of horror on my face.
Find Greg's column in Tuesday's print edition.
