DIY bagels...this is crazy

My love affair with bagels is no different than most. You know how it is -- sometimes we find ourselves in a bagel heaven where delis and bagel shops abound. But there are times when it's a dessert out there. Can't find a bagel shop worth a damn. Sometimes even the most devoted of us has to do without.

But no longer. All it took was a food blogger's recipe and this is the result.

Amazing. Unbelievable. I'd never have thought making bagels was so easy.

Mouth of the Smith

We were out on the Smith River early. Richard had invited us to tag along with him as he some friends Baily Hole, down toward the mouth. When we got there, about eight or ten boats crowded the hole and bunch of roughnecks fished from the bank. Knowing we'd make a scene if we tried to snuggle our way into the lineup of fishermen, we found a bit of open water 50 yards upstream. Meg eventually got to regularly drilling that lure out 50 or 60 feet with each cast.

We didn't land anything but thanks to Richard (who showed off this beauty caught the day before, same spot) we added one more experience to list.

Looking for Paradise

Hiked up for 2 hours, we saw near paradise...

on the Paradise Trail!

Fishing for breakfast...not

Klaus and I woke early, but the fish must have been warned.

We climbed the trail up to Stony Creek, made a quick traverse, then sat ourselves on the rocks along the Smith. We fished a few deep holes thinking it wouldn't be long before catching an easy meal.

And hour later we were back in the cabin toasting up bagels. The only fish was the smoked salmon bought a few days earlier at the market.

The letter

A couple times a week we walk the half mile or so to the post office on what the locals call the "mail trail."

This well-worn path is mostly uneventful, save for the spectacular views of the Smith.

Yesterday, a light rain spoiled our mostly sunny days here in Del Norte county. Nothing much to do except to dig out the parkas and brave the sudden cold.

Not just another beach

Past the airport on Washington Street where the asphalt peters out to dirt is a stretch of sand called Radio Beach. After dropping Meg off at work I took a drive to this insanely beautiful spot.

Littered with the shells of molting crabs and strewn with wood worn soft from the surf, Anton and I took a long walk in the setting but still brilliant sun. We soaked up what heat was left of the day and then made our way back up the hill to home.

Emma, Meg at the swimming hole

We spent the weekend with our friends from Berkeley. The bravest of the bunch -- namely Meg and Emma -- went for the season's first swim in the neighborhood swimming hole. Here, the two warm up after checking out the clear, clear (and cold) waters of the Smith.