ALTHOUGH BEAR WAS never completely comfortable with Eureka, there were some bright spots.
First of all, his long-time friend, Billy Dukakis was there.
And although Billy wasn't particularly popular with some of the less sophisticated upper classmen, he did have a loyal clique of athletes at all grade levels.
But most importantly for Bear: Billy always stuck up for him.
The two boys had been friends for many years.
As a young boy, Billy's older brother used to drop him off to fish the San Poil whenever the elder Dukakis visited friends or golfed at the Govan-Crab Creek course.
Throughout his childhood summers, Bear rode his bike down the west slope of Huckleberry Mountain and spent most of his time at the river during those months.
As Bear brought a nice native cutthroat to hand, he first observed Billy fishing unsuccessfully on a barren, outside bend of the river.
Bear crossed the bridge and introduced himself.
He happily revealed to Billy the best fishing runs, riffles, and holes, and the best swimming holes.
Both boys already tied flies and they used those buggy imitations to successfully trick the fish.
Bear instructed Billy when and where to use dry flies, and when he should use streamers or nymphs.
The boys became adept at the sport as they caught and released numerous lunkers in the San Poil.
And when they were tired of fishing...
they dove from atop log jams and frolicked in the cool, refreshing waters of the river.
For several years Bear thought Billy was a fellow Indian, maybe even a member of the Columbia like himself.
After all, their dark tanned complexions were identical; but Bear eventually discovered that Billy's dusky look was inherited from his father's eastern Mediterranean ancestry.
One day Bear joked, "Here, I thought you were a noble Creek, but now I find out you're just a Greek, eh!" Billy joked back, I thought you were a brave Indian, but now I find out you're just a river, ya hoser!" Nonetheless, the boys' friendship was unshakable and built on a solid lifelong foundation and a mutual respect for each other's integrity, intelligence, and athletic abilities.
Both boys were strong, coordinated, and fleet-footed.
When they raced from one telephone pole to the next, Billy almost always won.
But when the foot races went to a second pole or beyond, Bear usually gained a large margin.
In later years Bear would join Billy and hunt the large-breasted blue grouse high in the Kettle River Range, and they'd stalk the sumptuous ruffed and spruce grouse between Eureka Gulch and Empire Lake.
They'd float-tube fly-fish Empire, Ward, Long, Ferry, and Swan lakes; and Billy would join his buddy on the Rez and secretly use Bear's tribal elk tag to bag a trophy bull.
First of all, his long-time friend, Billy Dukakis was there.
And although Billy wasn't particularly popular with some of the less sophisticated upper classmen, he did have a loyal clique of athletes at all grade levels.
But most importantly for Bear: Billy always stuck up for him.
The two boys had been friends for many years.
As a young boy, Billy's older brother used to drop him off to fish the San Poil whenever the elder Dukakis visited friends or golfed at the Govan-Crab Creek course.
Throughout his childhood summers, Bear rode his bike down the west slope of Huckleberry Mountain and spent most of his time at the river during those months.
As Bear brought a nice native cutthroat to hand, he first observed Billy fishing unsuccessfully on a barren, outside bend of the river.
Bear crossed the bridge and introduced himself.
He happily revealed to Billy the best fishing runs, riffles, and holes, and the best swimming holes.
Both boys already tied flies and they used those buggy imitations to successfully trick the fish.
Bear instructed Billy when and where to use dry flies, and when he should use streamers or nymphs.
The boys became adept at the sport as they caught and released numerous lunkers in the San Poil.
And when they were tired of fishing...
they dove from atop log jams and frolicked in the cool, refreshing waters of the river.
For several years Bear thought Billy was a fellow Indian, maybe even a member of the Columbia like himself.
After all, their dark tanned complexions were identical; but Bear eventually discovered that Billy's dusky look was inherited from his father's eastern Mediterranean ancestry.
One day Bear joked, "Here, I thought you were a noble Creek, but now I find out you're just a Greek, eh!" Billy joked back, I thought you were a brave Indian, but now I find out you're just a river, ya hoser!" Nonetheless, the boys' friendship was unshakable and built on a solid lifelong foundation and a mutual respect for each other's integrity, intelligence, and athletic abilities.
Both boys were strong, coordinated, and fleet-footed.
When they raced from one telephone pole to the next, Billy almost always won.
But when the foot races went to a second pole or beyond, Bear usually gained a large margin.
In later years Bear would join Billy and hunt the large-breasted blue grouse high in the Kettle River Range, and they'd stalk the sumptuous ruffed and spruce grouse between Eureka Gulch and Empire Lake.
They'd float-tube fly-fish Empire, Ward, Long, Ferry, and Swan lakes; and Billy would join his buddy on the Rez and secretly use Bear's tribal elk tag to bag a trophy bull.
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