Upper Sac regulars will be happy to learn Cindy Martel – the chef behind the Gandy Dancer’s radiantly perfect baked goods – just opened a new restaurant in Dunsmuir (The Wild Thyme), and in a clear sign from the gods, it’s located right next door to the Ted Fay Fly Shop.

Yes, Undergrounders, it appears Dunsmuir’s perfected the food & tippet stop.

Hmmmm, Cuban Steak Sandwich. Show of hands: Who’s hungry?

While my taste in Dunsmuir restaurants runs largely to Burger Barn, the Wild Thyme’s menu sorely tempts the Underground’s taste buds.

The much-mourned Cinnamon rolls haven’t yet made a comeback (“soon” says Martel) and the menu’s in a state of flux (it’s only Day 2). Still, open from 7am to 3pm, they serve breakfast all day, and as god is my witness, I will have the Cuban Hash or coconut pancakes.

I wolfed down a Cuban Steak sandwich for lunch, and Gandy Dancer regulars will no doubt remember the much-loved Jerked Chicken sandwiches and wraps.

So when in Dunsmuir, your to-do list is now composed entirely of these three things: Fish. Sleep. Eat.

The Upper Sac Loses A Good One

Vince Cloward of the Upper Sacramento River Exchange is well known around fly fishing circles for all the work he’s done for the river, and it’s with a little sadness that we report he’s taken a job in Colorado Springs.

Vince was cool, and he was also a tireless worker on behalf of the river, and he’ll be missed.

See you in Dunsmuir, Tom Chandler.

dunsmuir, fly fishing, fishing, wild thyme, upper sacramento river exchange

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If you rent/fish/stay in Dunsmuir, you might want to visit his site, and then leave a quick supporting comment here.

I won’t bore you with a detailed recounting of vicious small town politics where a few gasbags are always looking to stir up trouble where there isn’t any, but suffice it to say Dave’s trying to counter of a lot of very, very odd arguments – and more than a few personal attacks.

One small example? A proponent of stringent vacation rental regulation suggested vacation rentals were ripe for use by pedophiles looking to defile Dunsmuir’s youth.

Gotta love thoughtful political discourse like that.

See you online, Tom Chandler.

dunsmuir, vacation rental,

It was no secret that Baker was a trout poacher of impressive proportions, but it wasn’t until game warden Joe Powell arrived that Baker got caught (and caught bigtime).

Before Baker pleaded guilty to the numerous poaching charges against him, I spoke to Powell, who said he and his fellow wardens had been “living in Baker’s back pocket” without Baker knowing it.

It wasn’t an idle boast: Powell’s apparently half ghost. Several of us have experienced the same phenomenon along the river; one minute we’re apparently fishing alone, and the next, Powell’s standing right next to us, checking our hooks for barbs.

It’s as if he erupts from the earth itself. He’s the Ghost Warden.

You can read the whole sordid “gotcha” story in Tom Stienstra’s column (hint: it includes river-side surveillance, high-tech equipment, and sting operation I wish we had on tape), but here’s the happy, fairy tale resolution (if you’re a trout):

The case ended in January when Baker pleaded guilty to five counts of violation of the Fish and Game Code, including unlawful take, unlawful sale of trout, illegal fish in an eating establishment and littering, according to the DFG.

Baker was ordered to pay $5,323, sentenced to 30 days in jail, placed on three years of probation, and banned from fishing in California or accompanying anybody fishing for three years.

In addition, Powell said, Baker sold his restaurant and is moving out of state.

There’s a moral to this story, Powell said: “You never know who’s watching.”

Baker got off lightly considering how many years he’d been poaching, but then, the town isn’t plagued by him any more, so I’ll take it. (How do you know Larry Baker’s lying? You check to see if his lips are moving.)

My favorite detail in this whole sordid mess? The wardens taped Baker throwing an empty salmon egg jar into the river, then tacked an in-your-face “littering” charge onto the end of the rather impressive list of poaching charges.

That, my friends, is Pure Warden Style.

Thanks Joe! And good-bye Lying Larry. We won’t miss you, even for a second.