It seemed like the perfect day. The sky was overcast, but not raining. It was almost 60 degrees out and hadn't gotten below 50 during the night. We began dreaming of baetis hatches and big browns. It was bound to be the perfect day.
Read moreOver The Ridge
Some days hiking over the ridge pays off.
Leave No Trace
"Friend,
When you stray or sit and take your ease
On heath or hill, or under spreading trees,
Pray leave no traces of your wayside meal,
No paper bag, no scattered orange peel,
Nor daily journal littered on the grass;
Others may view these with distaste, and pass;
Let no one say, and say it to your shame,
That all was beauty here until you came."
I've driven past this sign half a dozen times. I always make Jacob pull over so I can read it, admire the flowers growing around it, and feel the breeze flowing through the mountains. Winding down the dirt road I always ask aloud; 'I wonder who wrote that?' And, I forget I've wondered just as soon as I say it. The sentiment, the lesson, is what always stuck.
Read moreA Rainbow and A Pot of Gold
The parking lot was full. We walked by all the cars, searching for fishy stickers or rod tubes in backseats. Determining that this was a big river, we'd just driven all the way out here, and the ratio of anglers to cars was not that high, we geared up. I swapped out my trusty hip pack for the daypack, as I do on most 'hike' trips. It was filled to the brim with snacks, rain jackets, and water, with all fishing essentials pinned here and there.
Jacob doesn't hike unless there's the return of fishing, a guaranteed pot of gold at the end of a rainbow if you will. Which is why these are my favorite kind of fishing trips, I get to hike with Jacob because the bribe of trout always works.
Read moreSitting On A Rock
The weather report called for afternoon thunderstorms, so a full day, high-country trip was out of the question. Heading north was out of the question. There had been one too many mudslides and we didn’t want to be stuck somewhere for hours. We threw out different directions and rivers for a while until we settled on a spot. We’d gone last year, been skunked, I wasn’t expecting much. I figured ‘hey, at least I get to be outside.’
Read moreWay On Up
I've always considered myself to be a mountain person. I live, play, survive in the mountains, define myself by it. I've never been so wrong about anything. At best, I'm a hill person.
Last week, Jacob and I made plans to meet up with a fellow bamboo rod maker and one of my first rod bag customers, Dave Sornborger - Animas Rods. After all, we're are in his backyard, who better to show us around. "You're good with 2.5 miles, right?" Jacob asked me. I didn't give it a second thought. Two miles, seriously, that's a quick hike for me. It wasn't until the night before that I was informed that over the course of two-miles we'd be gaining 2,000 ft in elevation and starting off at 10,000 ft.
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