Every fall and winter for over twenty years, Ernest Hemingway spent time at Sun Valley, Idaho. He enjoyed his trips through France, Italy, Spain, Switzerland, and Cuba, but Idaho was always home. The hunting was superb, and he reveled in the sunny meadows and wild mountain crags. Fresh game could always be attained by way of a canoe trip on Silver Creek or a hike to the Pahsimeroi (Paw-sim-er-roy) pass. Between alternating sessions of high adventure and novel writing, Papa’s fiction thrived.
