This morning we packed up our gear, gathered the trash in the condo, ran the dishwasher and headed out for KC. The trip took eleven hours, thirty-seven minutes and 48 seconds according to the stopwatch on my watch. This included meals, construction delays and ARVs (Average Restroom Visits).
Most exciting was just as we came off highway 40 onto I-70 just off Berthoud Pass. As we were heading into Downieville we saw what looked to be a couple of female elk standing in the road. As we got closer, I realized they were longhorn sheep.
Dad pulled over and I grabbed the digital camera and the camcorder. As I was taking some video, I saw a couple of other longhorns off the side of the road. I watched them cross the road and start up the mountain then realized there were more on the mountain. By the time all was said and done, dad counted ten long horn sheep, including an alpha male of the herd with horns curling under almost to his ears.
The wildlife we saw in Colorado was now as complete as it was going to get. We saw chipmunks, a pika, male and female elk and longhorn sheep.
The rest of the ride home was chattier than the drive up but was mostly superficial. We talked about the trip, birds, music, movies dad has never seen but I think he needs to (the list includes Office Space, Real Genius, and Grosse Point Blank), and idiots who try to drive and read a book at the same time.
When we got to the house, mom already had a big pot of her family-favorite chili on the table. The four grandsons were down visiting their dad (my brother) so mom made something simple that dad and I could easily warm up in the microwave if we needed to.
I’m heading home tomorrow after helping dad get his computer back up and running. I’m looking forward to seeing Shelly, whom I miss very much at the moment.
And so ends the saga of the Great Father-Son Colorado Fishing Trip.
Friday, October 24, 2003
Thursday, October 23, 2003
Take it Easy
Today was a day off from taking a day off. Except for visiting one of the local gold mines, we really didn’t have anything planned and it was great. No clock, no schedule, no specific destination… pure freedom.
We started out the day going to the Phoenix Mine in Idaho Springs. I had wanted to visit one of the mines all week but we never had time at the end of the day. Today, we went.
The mine tour was kinda short. It took about 45 minutes and we didn’t really go too far into the mine but it was fun. I now know why gold costs so much… it’s damn hard to extract. From one ton of rock (not ore), they generally extract less than half an ounce of gold.
During the tour, we learned a bit of geology, a bit of mining history, and a bit of economics. Even though the Phoenix is advertised as a working mine, our guide preferred to call it a “workable” mine. Despite the presence of some very rich veins, the price of gold is too low at the moment to make it worth their while to mine it.
We also learned about the different minerals that are extracted in addition to gold. Within the veins, you might also find iron, copper, and the stuff used in solar collectors (I don’t remember what it’s called).
Once the tour was over, I panned for gold in their half mile of streambed. I enjoyed doing it and I found some gold-colored flakes (they were most likely mica), saved some sparkly sand from the bottom of one of the pans, and found a few chunks of minerals like quartz and other pretty things. The most fun part, though, was listening to the tour group of grade-schoolers.
When we arrived, a large group of children were going through the mine tour in small groups. The rest were playing in the stream. I say they were playing rather than panning because I listened to several elated exclamations about finding silver, pretty rocks and even a diamond (there was an argument over that one… “Look! I found a diamond.” “That’s not a diamond.” “Yes it is.” “No, it’s not.” “You don’t know!”). One group of three or four youngsters were even setting up their own mine right there on the stream.
I sifted four or five panfuls of sand and rock and decided that was enough.
When we left the mine, we went back into Idaho Springs. We drove around a bit and decided to go up the road to Georgetown.
Georgetown was fun. I took dad into the End Of The Line soda fountain and gift shop. It’s a fun little store and the owner is nice. We bought a couple of T-Shirts then went next door to The Rock Shop. I’m not into collecting geodes but it’s interesting to browse through their shop and look at all the pretty rocks.
After The Rock Shop, we stopped in at The Trading Post. Dad found a gift for mom and I browsed through the hats. I don’t know why I developed a recent affinity for hats. I used to hate hats (this is all, of course, excluding baseball caps). I didn’t like the way they looked on me. Maybe my facial structure has changed but about 18 months ago I was wandering through Wal-Mart at 2am (why I was there at 2am is a whole other story that you’ll probably never hear) and found this brown, felt hat. This was doubly odd because, not only did I not used to like hats, I really didn’t like brown hats. I even went so far as to buy an official Indiana Jones fedora in grey because I didn’t like brown (I didn’t care so much what the hat looked like at the time because it was an Indiana Jones Stetson – I think it looks good now, though).
Anyway, I tried on this brown, soft felt hat and really liked the way it looked… so I plunked down the $26.00 to buy it. My wife was not too pleased but allowed me the indulgence. She’s adjusted to it because I use it during cold and inclement weather. A couple of weeks ago, when I brought home the new, black, rigid wool cowboy hat, she wasn’t too pleased about the $23.00 for a hat and she thought it was silly that I had suddenly become enamored with hats but she let me keep it.
There is a point to this whole story and here it is. While I was in The Trading Post, I looked at a couple of hats I liked. I knew I couldn’t afford another hat and was 99.999% sure I couldn’t get away with buying two hats in the same month. When I looked at the $39.95 price tag, I became 100% sure.
In discussing this with dad, I discovered another parallel. He likes hats, too… and mom would kill him if he bought another.
After Grandview, we ended up in Silverthorne. Silverthorne is a more affluent town than Idaho Springs or Grandview mostly due to its proximity to three different ski resorts and the presence of a large outlet mall.
We stopped for a late lunch/early dinner and decided to head up highway 9 rather than going back over Berthoud pass to get back to Fraser. As we have most of the weekend, we spoke infrequently and enjoyed the breathtaking scenery.
Tomorrow, we head back to Kansas City. I’m ready to go home but this trip has been one of the most satisfying vacations I’ve experienced in a long time.
We started out the day going to the Phoenix Mine in Idaho Springs. I had wanted to visit one of the mines all week but we never had time at the end of the day. Today, we went.
The mine tour was kinda short. It took about 45 minutes and we didn’t really go too far into the mine but it was fun. I now know why gold costs so much… it’s damn hard to extract. From one ton of rock (not ore), they generally extract less than half an ounce of gold.
During the tour, we learned a bit of geology, a bit of mining history, and a bit of economics. Even though the Phoenix is advertised as a working mine, our guide preferred to call it a “workable” mine. Despite the presence of some very rich veins, the price of gold is too low at the moment to make it worth their while to mine it.
We also learned about the different minerals that are extracted in addition to gold. Within the veins, you might also find iron, copper, and the stuff used in solar collectors (I don’t remember what it’s called).
Once the tour was over, I panned for gold in their half mile of streambed. I enjoyed doing it and I found some gold-colored flakes (they were most likely mica), saved some sparkly sand from the bottom of one of the pans, and found a few chunks of minerals like quartz and other pretty things. The most fun part, though, was listening to the tour group of grade-schoolers.
When we arrived, a large group of children were going through the mine tour in small groups. The rest were playing in the stream. I say they were playing rather than panning because I listened to several elated exclamations about finding silver, pretty rocks and even a diamond (there was an argument over that one… “Look! I found a diamond.” “That’s not a diamond.” “Yes it is.” “No, it’s not.” “You don’t know!”). One group of three or four youngsters were even setting up their own mine right there on the stream.
I sifted four or five panfuls of sand and rock and decided that was enough.
When we left the mine, we went back into Idaho Springs. We drove around a bit and decided to go up the road to Georgetown.
Georgetown was fun. I took dad into the End Of The Line soda fountain and gift shop. It’s a fun little store and the owner is nice. We bought a couple of T-Shirts then went next door to The Rock Shop. I’m not into collecting geodes but it’s interesting to browse through their shop and look at all the pretty rocks.
After The Rock Shop, we stopped in at The Trading Post. Dad found a gift for mom and I browsed through the hats. I don’t know why I developed a recent affinity for hats. I used to hate hats (this is all, of course, excluding baseball caps). I didn’t like the way they looked on me. Maybe my facial structure has changed but about 18 months ago I was wandering through Wal-Mart at 2am (why I was there at 2am is a whole other story that you’ll probably never hear) and found this brown, felt hat. This was doubly odd because, not only did I not used to like hats, I really didn’t like brown hats. I even went so far as to buy an official Indiana Jones fedora in grey because I didn’t like brown (I didn’t care so much what the hat looked like at the time because it was an Indiana Jones Stetson – I think it looks good now, though).
Anyway, I tried on this brown, soft felt hat and really liked the way it looked… so I plunked down the $26.00 to buy it. My wife was not too pleased but allowed me the indulgence. She’s adjusted to it because I use it during cold and inclement weather. A couple of weeks ago, when I brought home the new, black, rigid wool cowboy hat, she wasn’t too pleased about the $23.00 for a hat and she thought it was silly that I had suddenly become enamored with hats but she let me keep it.
There is a point to this whole story and here it is. While I was in The Trading Post, I looked at a couple of hats I liked. I knew I couldn’t afford another hat and was 99.999% sure I couldn’t get away with buying two hats in the same month. When I looked at the $39.95 price tag, I became 100% sure.
In discussing this with dad, I discovered another parallel. He likes hats, too… and mom would kill him if he bought another.
After Grandview, we ended up in Silverthorne. Silverthorne is a more affluent town than Idaho Springs or Grandview mostly due to its proximity to three different ski resorts and the presence of a large outlet mall.
We stopped for a late lunch/early dinner and decided to head up highway 9 rather than going back over Berthoud pass to get back to Fraser. As we have most of the weekend, we spoke infrequently and enjoyed the breathtaking scenery.
Tomorrow, we head back to Kansas City. I’m ready to go home but this trip has been one of the most satisfying vacations I’ve experienced in a long time.
Wednesday, October 22, 2003
The Long and Winding Road
I don't know if you've noticed but I've been titling these entries from Colorado using song titles. A few of them, I've been hard pressed to match a song title to but today could have been many different songs. Some of the titles under consideration: Shoot To Thrill, Rocky Mountain High, Kodachrome, Top of the World, and a couple of others I can't recall at the moment.
Dad and I decided last night that today was going to be devoted to photography. He didn't take many pictures but I think he enjoyed watching me enjoy taking pictures. I know he enjoyed reviewing my digital pictures and critiquing them and I enjoyed receiving the feedback.
We packed up my Sony Mavica FD-88 and camcorder, a Yashica D loaded with 120 b&w, a Yashica 635 loaded with 35mm color, and a Mamiya SLR complete with auto winder and 28mm, 200mm, 38-80mm, and 100-200mm lenses. We loaded everything into the van and headed for Rocky Mountain National Park.
First, let me say that should you get the opportunity to drive through RMNP, do so. The scenery is breathtaking. I should also tell you that there are several places where you can pull off the road, park, and take pictures or just enjoy the fresh mountain air. The first time I had dad stop the van so I could take some pictures, we were about 200 yards from one of the stopping areas.
At the first pull-off (Fairview Curve), I dug out the tripod and started to unsheathe the Yashica D. There was a low wall and dad noticed there were several chipmunks darting about the trees along the back side of the wall. Dad started "chittering" to them and, low and behold, one of them darted up on top of the wall and came right up to dad.
He was gone about as soon as he appeared after sniffing a bit at dad to see if he had any treats. No sooner had he left as another one came up to visit so I grabbed the SLR and started snapping a few pictures.
-----------------------
Let me pause briefly in my narrative to point out something. These chipmunks were obviously not afraid of humans and were obviously begging for treats. All through the park there are signs saying that you should not feed the wildlife and reminding people that the practice is, in fact, illegal.
The reason you are not supposed to feed the wildlife is that they become dependent on humans to bring them food and lose the ability to forage for themselves - among other things.
Please... DO NOT FEED THE ANIMALS!!!
-----------------------
While dad and I were enticing the chipmunks to come up for a visit (without using or even thinking about using food), a couple of other cars pulled up and about five more people were taking pictures of the critters and the landscape. As the herd began to thin out, I put the SLR away and went back to the Yashica.
I mounted the Yashica on the tripod and proceeded to start focusing and getting a light reading. No sooner had I bent over the camera as dad says, "You just missed the perfect picture."
One of the chipmunks had come up beside dad, who was sitting on the wall. After peering at dad a couple of seconds, he hopped up on to dad's thigh. Getting no reaction to his gaze, except for a return gaze, the chipmunk scurried up to sit on dad's chest and stare at him from there. Apparently, dad did not posses what the chipmunk was after so he scurried off.
A couple more stops up the road, I had taken a few photos with the SLR and grabbed the video camera to take a video panoramic. As I was walking from the van, I noticed a couple of people off to the side pointing and talking excitedly. "I think it's a pika," I heard one of them say and I decided to head that way.
I'd heard about pikas from The Jeff Corwin Experience and was very excited that I'd get to see one. Sure enough, it was a pika. Pikas are small mammals, related to rabbits. If you've never seen a pika, they look a little like a chinchilla. If you've never seen a chinchilla, go to a pet store.
At any rate, I got some good video of the pika then took my panoramic.
After the encounter with the pika, dad and I headed for higher elevations. Somewhere around 11,500 feet the landscape turns into Alpine Tundra (Alpine tundra begins where trees give up the fight against cold, wind, and a short growing season.). At or near the highest point along Trail Ridge Road (12,183 ft) is the Alpine visitor center. The Alpine visitor center includes a gift shop and restaurant -- which were already closed for the season.
Dad and I took the opportunity to take a bathroom break and I took a few snapshots of the landscape. There's not much to see except the barren tops of mountains but it's one of those things that's fun to say "been there, done that." I'm sure it would have been better with some snow cover.
At the Alpine visitor center is also some sort of observation area above the parking lot. Up the side of one of the peaks, they have created a natural staircase. Visitors can make the trek up to the top of the peak to view, photograph and just generally enjoy the landscape.
I'm sure the view from there is spectacular but I just didn't have the energy to go up there. I had already been having trouble breathing most of the week even in Fraser (elev. 8,650 ft.) and, being 4,000 ft. above that, I wasn't about to try to make it another 100 feet or so up a staircase. Maybe next time.
From the Alpine visitor center, we started downward. We made a couple more stops and took a few more pictures at the Forest Canyon overlook, Rainbow Curve, and other stops. As we were nearing the lower elevations, we saw a sign that read "Elk viewing area - next three miles." We drove slowly - even stopped once and pulled out the binoculars - but didn't really see anything... until we got to the straight stretch of road at the end.
As we came around the bend, we saw several cars stopped by the side of the road. As we approached, we could see what appeared to be two female elk standing in the pasture. We pulled forward a bit and stopped.
In conversing with some of the people already there, we had missed the bull elk by mere minutes. No matter, though, I took a few pictures and even got some great video of the cow and yearling that were still there. On the video, you can hear the bull trumpeting.
The rest of the trip through the park was relatively uneventful. On our way out, we stopped by the park headquarters and picked up a few souvenirs. I now have a RMNP hat pin on my new black hat.
As we left RMNP we ended up on the outskirts of Estes Park. We could go east through Estes Park, down highway 36 to Boulder, then across 119 back to Fraser... or, we could avoid going so far east, shoot down county road 7, connect to 72 and finally back to 119 and Fraser. It was fortunate that we chose to go down county road 7.
As we headed south, we saw a bit of the road less traveled around that part of Colorado. I thought we were lost a couple of times but finally saw signs indicating what road we were on and started enjoying the drive. We were on 72 and topped a small hill...
I thought I was about to send dad through the window but he saw it, too, and was ready for my rapid deceleration test. What we saw was a young bull elk, grazing right next to the road. We topped the hill and he lifted his head, watched us pass, and then went back to grazing. I managed to stop about 100 yards down the road and we ended up at a great vantage point to take some pictures. The ironic thing about the whole situation was that there was a hunter's tag (a fluorescent pink ribbon) tied to a fencepost not two feet from his head.
Dad and I decided last night that today was going to be devoted to photography. He didn't take many pictures but I think he enjoyed watching me enjoy taking pictures. I know he enjoyed reviewing my digital pictures and critiquing them and I enjoyed receiving the feedback.
We packed up my Sony Mavica FD-88 and camcorder, a Yashica D loaded with 120 b&w, a Yashica 635 loaded with 35mm color, and a Mamiya SLR complete with auto winder and 28mm, 200mm, 38-80mm, and 100-200mm lenses. We loaded everything into the van and headed for Rocky Mountain National Park.
First, let me say that should you get the opportunity to drive through RMNP, do so. The scenery is breathtaking. I should also tell you that there are several places where you can pull off the road, park, and take pictures or just enjoy the fresh mountain air. The first time I had dad stop the van so I could take some pictures, we were about 200 yards from one of the stopping areas.
At the first pull-off (Fairview Curve), I dug out the tripod and started to unsheathe the Yashica D. There was a low wall and dad noticed there were several chipmunks darting about the trees along the back side of the wall. Dad started "chittering" to them and, low and behold, one of them darted up on top of the wall and came right up to dad.
He was gone about as soon as he appeared after sniffing a bit at dad to see if he had any treats. No sooner had he left as another one came up to visit so I grabbed the SLR and started snapping a few pictures.
-----------------------
Let me pause briefly in my narrative to point out something. These chipmunks were obviously not afraid of humans and were obviously begging for treats. All through the park there are signs saying that you should not feed the wildlife and reminding people that the practice is, in fact, illegal.
The reason you are not supposed to feed the wildlife is that they become dependent on humans to bring them food and lose the ability to forage for themselves - among other things.
Please... DO NOT FEED THE ANIMALS!!!
-----------------------
While dad and I were enticing the chipmunks to come up for a visit (without using or even thinking about using food), a couple of other cars pulled up and about five more people were taking pictures of the critters and the landscape. As the herd began to thin out, I put the SLR away and went back to the Yashica.
I mounted the Yashica on the tripod and proceeded to start focusing and getting a light reading. No sooner had I bent over the camera as dad says, "You just missed the perfect picture."
One of the chipmunks had come up beside dad, who was sitting on the wall. After peering at dad a couple of seconds, he hopped up on to dad's thigh. Getting no reaction to his gaze, except for a return gaze, the chipmunk scurried up to sit on dad's chest and stare at him from there. Apparently, dad did not posses what the chipmunk was after so he scurried off.
A couple more stops up the road, I had taken a few photos with the SLR and grabbed the video camera to take a video panoramic. As I was walking from the van, I noticed a couple of people off to the side pointing and talking excitedly. "I think it's a pika," I heard one of them say and I decided to head that way.
I'd heard about pikas from The Jeff Corwin Experience and was very excited that I'd get to see one. Sure enough, it was a pika. Pikas are small mammals, related to rabbits. If you've never seen a pika, they look a little like a chinchilla. If you've never seen a chinchilla, go to a pet store.
At any rate, I got some good video of the pika then took my panoramic.
After the encounter with the pika, dad and I headed for higher elevations. Somewhere around 11,500 feet the landscape turns into Alpine Tundra (Alpine tundra begins where trees give up the fight against cold, wind, and a short growing season.). At or near the highest point along Trail Ridge Road (12,183 ft) is the Alpine visitor center. The Alpine visitor center includes a gift shop and restaurant -- which were already closed for the season.
Dad and I took the opportunity to take a bathroom break and I took a few snapshots of the landscape. There's not much to see except the barren tops of mountains but it's one of those things that's fun to say "been there, done that." I'm sure it would have been better with some snow cover.
At the Alpine visitor center is also some sort of observation area above the parking lot. Up the side of one of the peaks, they have created a natural staircase. Visitors can make the trek up to the top of the peak to view, photograph and just generally enjoy the landscape.
I'm sure the view from there is spectacular but I just didn't have the energy to go up there. I had already been having trouble breathing most of the week even in Fraser (elev. 8,650 ft.) and, being 4,000 ft. above that, I wasn't about to try to make it another 100 feet or so up a staircase. Maybe next time.
From the Alpine visitor center, we started downward. We made a couple more stops and took a few more pictures at the Forest Canyon overlook, Rainbow Curve, and other stops. As we were nearing the lower elevations, we saw a sign that read "Elk viewing area - next three miles." We drove slowly - even stopped once and pulled out the binoculars - but didn't really see anything... until we got to the straight stretch of road at the end.
As we came around the bend, we saw several cars stopped by the side of the road. As we approached, we could see what appeared to be two female elk standing in the pasture. We pulled forward a bit and stopped.
In conversing with some of the people already there, we had missed the bull elk by mere minutes. No matter, though, I took a few pictures and even got some great video of the cow and yearling that were still there. On the video, you can hear the bull trumpeting.
The rest of the trip through the park was relatively uneventful. On our way out, we stopped by the park headquarters and picked up a few souvenirs. I now have a RMNP hat pin on my new black hat.
As we left RMNP we ended up on the outskirts of Estes Park. We could go east through Estes Park, down highway 36 to Boulder, then across 119 back to Fraser... or, we could avoid going so far east, shoot down county road 7, connect to 72 and finally back to 119 and Fraser. It was fortunate that we chose to go down county road 7.
As we headed south, we saw a bit of the road less traveled around that part of Colorado. I thought we were lost a couple of times but finally saw signs indicating what road we were on and started enjoying the drive. We were on 72 and topped a small hill...
I thought I was about to send dad through the window but he saw it, too, and was ready for my rapid deceleration test. What we saw was a young bull elk, grazing right next to the road. We topped the hill and he lifted his head, watched us pass, and then went back to grazing. I managed to stop about 100 yards down the road and we ended up at a great vantage point to take some pictures. The ironic thing about the whole situation was that there was a hunter's tag (a fluorescent pink ribbon) tied to a fencepost not two feet from his head.
Tuesday, October 21, 2003
Good Day Sunshine
A bad day fishing is better than a good day at work. I finally understand that saying. We had a GREAT day of fishing today.
We started out going to Monarch Lake. It’s a beautiful sight. If you’re ever around Winter Park, head up the highway just past Granby, take highway 34 North, turn East on County Road 6 (don’t forget to stop at one of the fee stations) and go ‘till you can’t go no more. Get out of your car, walk through the gate, and see part of the beauty that is Colorado. But I digress.
I started with the fly rod. My casting was better with the correct line on the rod but the fish just weren’t biting. The spot we chose was a bit on the shallow side so I grabbed the spinning rod and chose a spot near deeper water.
I hadn’t cast more than 10 times when it hit. I pulled in a 10-inch rainbow trout… that we had for dinner. [side note: I chose the lure and tied it on myself.]
As far back as I can recall, I never remember landing a fish on a fishing trip. Sure, I’ve caught fish before. We used to pull crappie out of Joe Creek in Tulsa and I once nabbed a catfish during a fishing event at LaFortune Park. This is the first time I can remember ever catching a fish while fishing with my dad. It was a very satisfying feeling. (There was a ‘one that got away’ story but I don’t tell it because the fish was a very small blue gill… or, that’s what dad said it was)
We hung around Monarch Lake until noon-ish. We had packed a lunch so we ate in the car and headed back up the road.
We stopped at the spot under the bridge where we were yesterday. Neither one of us had so much as a nibble and I lost two lures… but I had a BLAST! The fish was a nice bonus but, call me crazy, I actually enjoyed waving a stick around all day.
You know, I was right. This trip is going to provide a lifetime of memories for me.
We started out going to Monarch Lake. It’s a beautiful sight. If you’re ever around Winter Park, head up the highway just past Granby, take highway 34 North, turn East on County Road 6 (don’t forget to stop at one of the fee stations) and go ‘till you can’t go no more. Get out of your car, walk through the gate, and see part of the beauty that is Colorado. But I digress.
I started with the fly rod. My casting was better with the correct line on the rod but the fish just weren’t biting. The spot we chose was a bit on the shallow side so I grabbed the spinning rod and chose a spot near deeper water.
I hadn’t cast more than 10 times when it hit. I pulled in a 10-inch rainbow trout… that we had for dinner. [side note: I chose the lure and tied it on myself.]
As far back as I can recall, I never remember landing a fish on a fishing trip. Sure, I’ve caught fish before. We used to pull crappie out of Joe Creek in Tulsa and I once nabbed a catfish during a fishing event at LaFortune Park. This is the first time I can remember ever catching a fish while fishing with my dad. It was a very satisfying feeling. (There was a ‘one that got away’ story but I don’t tell it because the fish was a very small blue gill… or, that’s what dad said it was)
We hung around Monarch Lake until noon-ish. We had packed a lunch so we ate in the car and headed back up the road.
We stopped at the spot under the bridge where we were yesterday. Neither one of us had so much as a nibble and I lost two lures… but I had a BLAST! The fish was a nice bonus but, call me crazy, I actually enjoyed waving a stick around all day.
You know, I was right. This trip is going to provide a lifetime of memories for me.
Monday, October 20, 2003
Busted
Today we went fishing… but all was not well.
We started at the southern end of Lake Granby, Rainbow Bay I think. While dad was preparing the fly rods, he suggested I try my luck with one of the spinning rods, just to get started. I grabbed one of the rods, cast out, and was halted by a rat’s nest of monofilament line that formed around the reel… the lure never even got wet. The damage was enough that he decided it would be better to untangle later: One rod down.
Dad handed me one of the fly rods and commenced to learnin’ me to fly cast. I started with empty line so that, just in case I whip-cast, I wouldn’t snap any flies off the end. I didn’t do too badly but the line just wasn’t lying out like it should. Dad kept telling me to drive the rod forward like I’m driving a nail. As he watched my line, he coached me to “drive the nail harder. Really hit it.” By this time, I’m thinking, “Geez, this is a lot of work. My arm hurts.”
After a few more minutes of this, dad starts noticing that my form looks okay but the line still isn’t lying out right. “Let me see that rod,” he says and starts casting it himself. The line is acting very similar to how it was acting for me. “I think I’ve got the wrong weight of line on here,” he starts, “We’ll have to change reels later. I have some heavier line on another reel in the van.” Two rods down.
Shortly after that, we packed up and headed for a different spot. We decided that the fish weren’t running shallow enough and we couldn’t cast deep enough where we were.
We headed East along County Road 6 along the Southern edge of the lake toward Monarch lake. There were pull-offs sprinkled along the route, presumably for hunting and fishing but a few also made for good photo-ops. About eight miles down the road, there was a parking area near a bridge. On approach to the bridge, you could see a stream with mountains rising up behind. We pulled off to take some pictures.
As I was snapping a few shots, dad was observing the trout surfacing along the stream. The path to the stream was relatively short and wasn’t too steep. We unpacked the other two spinning rods (we had a total of 4 but one came in with line tangled around the rod) and headed down.
I decided to try my luck with a closed-reel spinning rod. Too bad it was the wrong kind of luck. My first cast landed a stick. I cast out a second time and started reeling in. A sizeable knot of line came down the reel toward me. I paused enough to let the lure sink a bit and catch on one of several bits of log, grass or whatever else was at the bottom of the stream. Dad was like, “Reel it in and get your rod tip closer to the lure.” I’m like, “I can’t, there’s a knot in the line.” Dad’s like, “Reel it in.” I’m like, “I CAN’T. There’s a knot in the line.”
Dad finally came over, took a look at the knot and decided to take over. He reeled the knot into the reel, freed the lure from the clutches of the evil Dr. Riverbottom, and set the rod aside. “We’ll have to fix that when we get back. I’ll have to open the reel to fix it and I don’t want to mess with it out here.”
Three rods down.
I spent some time working the stream with the last functional spinning rod but that wasn’t very productive. Dad had put a lure on the line that was small, gold, and fish-shaped. The line tied in the middle and there were double hooks on either end. This was the wrong lure for this stream.
Every time I dragged the line out of the water, the lure was either tangled to itself, it tangled to the rod tip, or it came up with river bottom moss clinging to it. Let me tell you, fiddling with your lure EVERY time you bring it out of the water makes fishing no fun no matter who you are.
Dad changed the lure [side note: dad is doing all of the luring because he’s much more knowledgeable about lure selection than I am.] and I worked a small area of the stream for about 10-15 minutes. He took over for another 5 or so while I took more pictures. Neither one of us caught anything.
Oddly enough, as we got in the car, we could see a LOT of activity… just up the stream from where we were fishing.
Go fig.
We started at the southern end of Lake Granby, Rainbow Bay I think. While dad was preparing the fly rods, he suggested I try my luck with one of the spinning rods, just to get started. I grabbed one of the rods, cast out, and was halted by a rat’s nest of monofilament line that formed around the reel… the lure never even got wet. The damage was enough that he decided it would be better to untangle later: One rod down.
Dad handed me one of the fly rods and commenced to learnin’ me to fly cast. I started with empty line so that, just in case I whip-cast, I wouldn’t snap any flies off the end. I didn’t do too badly but the line just wasn’t lying out like it should. Dad kept telling me to drive the rod forward like I’m driving a nail. As he watched my line, he coached me to “drive the nail harder. Really hit it.” By this time, I’m thinking, “Geez, this is a lot of work. My arm hurts.”
After a few more minutes of this, dad starts noticing that my form looks okay but the line still isn’t lying out right. “Let me see that rod,” he says and starts casting it himself. The line is acting very similar to how it was acting for me. “I think I’ve got the wrong weight of line on here,” he starts, “We’ll have to change reels later. I have some heavier line on another reel in the van.” Two rods down.
Shortly after that, we packed up and headed for a different spot. We decided that the fish weren’t running shallow enough and we couldn’t cast deep enough where we were.
We headed East along County Road 6 along the Southern edge of the lake toward Monarch lake. There were pull-offs sprinkled along the route, presumably for hunting and fishing but a few also made for good photo-ops. About eight miles down the road, there was a parking area near a bridge. On approach to the bridge, you could see a stream with mountains rising up behind. We pulled off to take some pictures.
As I was snapping a few shots, dad was observing the trout surfacing along the stream. The path to the stream was relatively short and wasn’t too steep. We unpacked the other two spinning rods (we had a total of 4 but one came in with line tangled around the rod) and headed down.
I decided to try my luck with a closed-reel spinning rod. Too bad it was the wrong kind of luck. My first cast landed a stick. I cast out a second time and started reeling in. A sizeable knot of line came down the reel toward me. I paused enough to let the lure sink a bit and catch on one of several bits of log, grass or whatever else was at the bottom of the stream. Dad was like, “Reel it in and get your rod tip closer to the lure.” I’m like, “I can’t, there’s a knot in the line.” Dad’s like, “Reel it in.” I’m like, “I CAN’T. There’s a knot in the line.”
Dad finally came over, took a look at the knot and decided to take over. He reeled the knot into the reel, freed the lure from the clutches of the evil Dr. Riverbottom, and set the rod aside. “We’ll have to fix that when we get back. I’ll have to open the reel to fix it and I don’t want to mess with it out here.”
Three rods down.
I spent some time working the stream with the last functional spinning rod but that wasn’t very productive. Dad had put a lure on the line that was small, gold, and fish-shaped. The line tied in the middle and there were double hooks on either end. This was the wrong lure for this stream.
Every time I dragged the line out of the water, the lure was either tangled to itself, it tangled to the rod tip, or it came up with river bottom moss clinging to it. Let me tell you, fiddling with your lure EVERY time you bring it out of the water makes fishing no fun no matter who you are.
Dad changed the lure [side note: dad is doing all of the luring because he’s much more knowledgeable about lure selection than I am.] and I worked a small area of the stream for about 10-15 minutes. He took over for another 5 or so while I took more pictures. Neither one of us caught anything.
Oddly enough, as we got in the car, we could see a LOT of activity… just up the stream from where we were fishing.
Go fig.
Sunday, October 19, 2003
Like To Get To Know You Well
Today was uneventful and yet productive. The day started out with neither of us having slept well. I tossed and turned most of the night, waking up every hour or so, until about 5:30a when I realized I was congested and my struggle to breathe through my nose was a largely contributing factor. I took my antihistamine, took a snort of some saline spray and within a half hour was out until about 8. Dad, on the other hand, only caught about 2 hours of sleep. He told me he hadn’t been asleep yet when I got up around 2:30a.
We decided, first, that I should drive. Dad wasn’t sure he could stay awake. Then, we decided to go get our fishing licenses and scout out some access areas. We had all the fishing gear with us, having never unpacked it from the van, but I was pretty sure the rods weren’t going to see any action today.
After a nice breakfast at a local diner in Granby, we located an open tackle shop and went in for our licenses and some direction. The owners of Budget Tackle in Granby were quite helpful in pointing out some areas of Lake Granby as well as some easy-access points along the Colorado. We drove around the area for about an hour, noting some good spots to try, and then headed back to Fraser.
After a trip to the grocery store for comestibles for the rest of the week, dad laid down for a nap and I loaded the 35mm camera. The Fraser River runs right up to the deck of our condo and provides some beautiful scenery. There is an access trail that I didn’t get a chance to explore when we were here last year so, with camera in hand, I hiked around the complex for another hour or so.
On a side note, I have been shooting nothing but digital photos for about 3 years now. My camera is fully automatic with no capabilities to simulate aperture or shutter priority metering. I had forgotten how much fun it is to take creative control over the picture. I was adjusting aperture to change the depth of field, I was bracketing exposures, I was giving thought to the composition of my pictures, and I was having a great time.
Once I returned from my brief photo expedition, I decided I, too, could use a nap.
After dinner, dad asked what I’d like to do. He suggested going to Black Hawk and Central City to check out the casinos. I might have agreed but decided I wanted to get started logging some of my family’s oral history. I had warned him that I wanted to do this so I set up the camcorder and we began to talk.
Several of the stories I heard tonight I had heard before. Tonight, though, they were more complete so I got some extra details. I also heard new stories about my great grandparents and how my father grew up. Most interesting, though, was learning some of the parallels in our lives. Tonight I learned that a grocery store held our first jobs, our wives both thought we were jerks the first time they met us (although I think my wife used stronger language) and we both had our wives’ wedding rings custom-made.
I love my father. I’m so glad I have this opportunity to get to know him.
We decided, first, that I should drive. Dad wasn’t sure he could stay awake. Then, we decided to go get our fishing licenses and scout out some access areas. We had all the fishing gear with us, having never unpacked it from the van, but I was pretty sure the rods weren’t going to see any action today.
After a nice breakfast at a local diner in Granby, we located an open tackle shop and went in for our licenses and some direction. The owners of Budget Tackle in Granby were quite helpful in pointing out some areas of Lake Granby as well as some easy-access points along the Colorado. We drove around the area for about an hour, noting some good spots to try, and then headed back to Fraser.
After a trip to the grocery store for comestibles for the rest of the week, dad laid down for a nap and I loaded the 35mm camera. The Fraser River runs right up to the deck of our condo and provides some beautiful scenery. There is an access trail that I didn’t get a chance to explore when we were here last year so, with camera in hand, I hiked around the complex for another hour or so.
On a side note, I have been shooting nothing but digital photos for about 3 years now. My camera is fully automatic with no capabilities to simulate aperture or shutter priority metering. I had forgotten how much fun it is to take creative control over the picture. I was adjusting aperture to change the depth of field, I was bracketing exposures, I was giving thought to the composition of my pictures, and I was having a great time.
Once I returned from my brief photo expedition, I decided I, too, could use a nap.
After dinner, dad asked what I’d like to do. He suggested going to Black Hawk and Central City to check out the casinos. I might have agreed but decided I wanted to get started logging some of my family’s oral history. I had warned him that I wanted to do this so I set up the camcorder and we began to talk.
Several of the stories I heard tonight I had heard before. Tonight, though, they were more complete so I got some extra details. I also heard new stories about my great grandparents and how my father grew up. Most interesting, though, was learning some of the parallels in our lives. Tonight I learned that a grocery store held our first jobs, our wives both thought we were jerks the first time they met us (although I think my wife used stronger language) and we both had our wives’ wedding rings custom-made.
I love my father. I’m so glad I have this opportunity to get to know him.
Saturday, October 18, 2003
Looks Like We Made It
Dad and I made the trek form Kansas City to Fraser, Colorado today. We arrived about 7:40p local time. Time enough to get settled, take some time to veg in front of the TV and stop riding. Local time is now just after 9:00p but our bodies are saying it’s after 10:00p.
The drive was fairly uneventful. We talked some but it was mostly one slept while the other one drove. Dad doesn’t sleep much at night anyway and I was up around 4am this morning. That was partially due to anticipation of the trip, but mostly because I often don’t sleep well in the bed at their house anyway.
I think the plan for tomorrow is to explore the region a bit, get our fishing licenses taken care of and maybe take a few pictures. At least, I intend to load the 35mm and bring the digital with me.
It’s late and it’s been a long day. G’nite
The drive was fairly uneventful. We talked some but it was mostly one slept while the other one drove. Dad doesn’t sleep much at night anyway and I was up around 4am this morning. That was partially due to anticipation of the trip, but mostly because I often don’t sleep well in the bed at their house anyway.
I think the plan for tomorrow is to explore the region a bit, get our fishing licenses taken care of and maybe take a few pictures. At least, I intend to load the 35mm and bring the digital with me.
It’s late and it’s been a long day. G’nite
I'm so excited
It’s about 4:30am. In just a few hours, I will embark on a trip that I hope will hold a lifetime of memories. I hold this hope, not because of our destination and not because of our activities but because of who I’m going with. The simplest and most excitedly childlike way I can put this is I’m going fishing with my dad.
While I was growing up, my father often enjoyed many activities that he attempted to involve my brother and I in (and occasionally my sister). He enjoyed golf, fishing and playing chess. As any young child would, I took an interest in these activities mostly just to spend time with my father. As I grew into my teens, I found that my interest drifted toward different activities. My father would invite me to play golf or just go out to the driving range but I declined… many times.
Dad would also take us fishing on occasion. Eventually, both my brother and I lost interest – probably because we didn’t understand the concept of fishing. It’s not about catching the fish, it’s about taking time.
I recall growing up in Oklahoma when we’d go to a fishing dock in the winter. We would stay relatively warm but still had access to the water. The problem was there were several others with the same idea. I don’t remember ever catching a fish at these times. What I remember was I was cold, I was bored, and the place reeked of fish.
During the summers, we would fish the banks along Keystone Lake and still not catch anything. I think I recall maybe three times that I actually caught something. For a child, the number of fish vs. the number of hours spent fishing were not encouraging.
Now that I’m older, I realize it’s not always about catching fish… although that is a bonus.
While I was growing up, my father often enjoyed many activities that he attempted to involve my brother and I in (and occasionally my sister). He enjoyed golf, fishing and playing chess. As any young child would, I took an interest in these activities mostly just to spend time with my father. As I grew into my teens, I found that my interest drifted toward different activities. My father would invite me to play golf or just go out to the driving range but I declined… many times.
Dad would also take us fishing on occasion. Eventually, both my brother and I lost interest – probably because we didn’t understand the concept of fishing. It’s not about catching the fish, it’s about taking time.
I recall growing up in Oklahoma when we’d go to a fishing dock in the winter. We would stay relatively warm but still had access to the water. The problem was there were several others with the same idea. I don’t remember ever catching a fish at these times. What I remember was I was cold, I was bored, and the place reeked of fish.
During the summers, we would fish the banks along Keystone Lake and still not catch anything. I think I recall maybe three times that I actually caught something. For a child, the number of fish vs. the number of hours spent fishing were not encouraging.
Now that I’m older, I realize it’s not always about catching fish… although that is a bonus.
Tuesday, October 14, 2003
Whirling, transient nodes of thought
I have a sticky note at the bottom of my monitor at work that has the words "Negative Energy" written on it. In hi-lighter it has the international "no" symbol (a circle with a slash through it) superimposed over the words. I did this several weeks ago because I was allowing myself to be consumed with the negativism that was permeating my environment. I had gotten to the point that I was either going to start screaming about even the smallest of annoyances (I actually had at one point - scared the hell out of everyone in the other offices around me) or explode. I decided then and there it wasn't worth it. I "cleansed my aura" - I waved my hands above my head then out across my shoulders finally shaking the 'energy' off my hands in a physical representation of getting rid of the negative thoughts - and put up the sticky note as a reminder.
Even though that reminder is staring me in the face on a daily basis, I find it difficult to heed its advice. It's difficult to do when the water-cooler conversation is all about how our new directors have turned into true PHBs. It's so bad that one of them is stringing out the rope to hang himself with a sexual harassment or hostile work environment lawsuit.
I could say more but that would open a door for the neg energy to flow back in. I'm trying to expunge it.
"Beware the dark side" - Yoda
I moved offices last Monday. I'm sharing an office in a different building with Gary. He made my transition easy by being gone last week. I was able to stack boxes behind his desk and let my plants float around the room a bit to decide where they wanted to be. I was worried how he'd receive my plants since they're a little overbearing for the space we have but relaxed as he excitedly told a coworker, "... He brought plants!"
I'm starting to get excited - HEY! None of that. Get your mind out of the gutter!
I'm starting to get excited about a fly fishing trip with my father next week. My wife and I own a timeshare condo in Colorado. Due to unforeseen circumstances, she doesn't have the leave time available to go this year. At her mother's suggestion, I asked my dad to take me fly fishing. He agreed.
I'm not excited about fly fishing. I don't care about fly fishing that much. What's important is I get to spend time with my dad. I'm hoping to get to know him a little better. Sure, I grew up with him but who listens to their parents as they grow up? Plus, over the last 15 years or so, geography has kept us apart and I'd like to learn more about his life since then. The big kicker, though, is I'll have time to sit down with him and record some of our family's oral history - THAT will be cool!
It's almost time to hit the shower and get ready for work. Later, y'all.
Even though that reminder is staring me in the face on a daily basis, I find it difficult to heed its advice. It's difficult to do when the water-cooler conversation is all about how our new directors have turned into true PHBs. It's so bad that one of them is stringing out the rope to hang himself with a sexual harassment or hostile work environment lawsuit.
I could say more but that would open a door for the neg energy to flow back in. I'm trying to expunge it.
"Beware the dark side" - Yoda
I moved offices last Monday. I'm sharing an office in a different building with Gary. He made my transition easy by being gone last week. I was able to stack boxes behind his desk and let my plants float around the room a bit to decide where they wanted to be. I was worried how he'd receive my plants since they're a little overbearing for the space we have but relaxed as he excitedly told a coworker, "... He brought plants!"
I'm starting to get excited - HEY! None of that. Get your mind out of the gutter!
I'm starting to get excited about a fly fishing trip with my father next week. My wife and I own a timeshare condo in Colorado. Due to unforeseen circumstances, she doesn't have the leave time available to go this year. At her mother's suggestion, I asked my dad to take me fly fishing. He agreed.
I'm not excited about fly fishing. I don't care about fly fishing that much. What's important is I get to spend time with my dad. I'm hoping to get to know him a little better. Sure, I grew up with him but who listens to their parents as they grow up? Plus, over the last 15 years or so, geography has kept us apart and I'd like to learn more about his life since then. The big kicker, though, is I'll have time to sit down with him and record some of our family's oral history - THAT will be cool!
It's almost time to hit the shower and get ready for work. Later, y'all.
Sunday, October 05, 2003
Let soak for 24 hours
I've been thinking a lot about my last entry. Man, was that a depressing few days.
Anyway, the reality of everything has soaked in and the dust has started to settle. After speaking to Ron late Tuesday afternoon and letting the reality of my situation and the layout of the entire Technology Support division sink in, I feel much better about it all.
I started realizing that I had an opportunity here. I could either be miserable, or make the best of it... I decided on the latter.
At first, the only thing that kept running through my mind was, "Bloom where you're planted." As I told myself those words over and over, I began to realize I was in a pretty good situation. I still get to work with Ron and I'll be facing new challenges. Plus, looking at our section of the org chart as a whole, I landed in a pretty good spot.
As my focus started widening to take in more than the little box with my name in it (and hearing how the Software Services division had been reoganized), I started seeing some interesting patterns. I started noticing that some people had been set up to fail. They had either been placed in a position that didn't appear to suit them at all or they had been put in charge of either an insufficient staff or an ill-equipped staff. I also noticed that some, like Ron and myself, had been set up to succeed. We are good at what we do, we work well together and we can take on any realistic challenge they want to throw our way.
The best change of all, though, is I'll cease to be invisible.
In a climate of such radical change where people are being laid off and pushed out, you might think this is a bad idea. Not so in my case... at least, I refuse to see it that way. I am currently in a position where, by reason of geography and the nature of my job, I don't get noticed until something goes wrong. Meanwhile, certain people in proximity to those in charge are being lauded for their efforts.
My professional career has often been like this. Kind of like the old poem about the train...
They do not let me drive the train, I cannot ring the bell. But, watch the damned thing jump the tracks and see who catches hell.
I'm not saying I want to be in the lime-light or that I intend to kiss up to be noticed but I would appreciate a sincere "thank you" once in a while for putting out extra effort. (Thanks, Ron, for always doing that - it's one of the reasons I respect you)
Anyway... It's getting late and I just didn't want that last entry to fester any longer. I still intend to finish the stories about Detroit, the Renaissance Festival and the concert, and why you shouldn't put 100% faith in directions from the web. PLUS, I'll give you a recap of this weekend... My wife's grandmother came to visit. Oh, wow... there's more. I need to tell you about getting to go fishing with dad!
For now, I'll bid you a fond pie in the face and say goodnight.
Anyway, the reality of everything has soaked in and the dust has started to settle. After speaking to Ron late Tuesday afternoon and letting the reality of my situation and the layout of the entire Technology Support division sink in, I feel much better about it all.
I started realizing that I had an opportunity here. I could either be miserable, or make the best of it... I decided on the latter.
At first, the only thing that kept running through my mind was, "Bloom where you're planted." As I told myself those words over and over, I began to realize I was in a pretty good situation. I still get to work with Ron and I'll be facing new challenges. Plus, looking at our section of the org chart as a whole, I landed in a pretty good spot.
As my focus started widening to take in more than the little box with my name in it (and hearing how the Software Services division had been reoganized), I started seeing some interesting patterns. I started noticing that some people had been set up to fail. They had either been placed in a position that didn't appear to suit them at all or they had been put in charge of either an insufficient staff or an ill-equipped staff. I also noticed that some, like Ron and myself, had been set up to succeed. We are good at what we do, we work well together and we can take on any realistic challenge they want to throw our way.
The best change of all, though, is I'll cease to be invisible.
In a climate of such radical change where people are being laid off and pushed out, you might think this is a bad idea. Not so in my case... at least, I refuse to see it that way. I am currently in a position where, by reason of geography and the nature of my job, I don't get noticed until something goes wrong. Meanwhile, certain people in proximity to those in charge are being lauded for their efforts.
My professional career has often been like this. Kind of like the old poem about the train...
They do not let me drive the train, I cannot ring the bell. But, watch the damned thing jump the tracks and see who catches hell.
I'm not saying I want to be in the lime-light or that I intend to kiss up to be noticed but I would appreciate a sincere "thank you" once in a while for putting out extra effort. (Thanks, Ron, for always doing that - it's one of the reasons I respect you)
Anyway... It's getting late and I just didn't want that last entry to fester any longer. I still intend to finish the stories about Detroit, the Renaissance Festival and the concert, and why you shouldn't put 100% faith in directions from the web. PLUS, I'll give you a recap of this weekend... My wife's grandmother came to visit. Oh, wow... there's more. I need to tell you about getting to go fishing with dad!
For now, I'll bid you a fond pie in the face and say goodnight.
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