Unbroken Silence

Every hour or so I check for email from the spot device. Was pretty cool to get a point while they were in flight to the lake. Then got a wayward point that had them half way down the river before other points have put them in the same spot for two nights, which is possible. About every half hour I check my watch and subtract 4 hours and wonder if they've gotten any sleep or if it's raining or what Reese thinks about fighting his first 15 pound chum. About every evening I sit down at the computer and edit film for the unguided production of Pongo 2010, which puts me with them, on the river bank setting up the tent, in the moments of boyish frivolity and laughter and the moments of homesickness and wondering why for 11 months you build this up to untouchable expectation when all it is is standing in cold water with little sleep for hour after hour of casting, when even catching a great rainbow doesn't make it worth it. Of course experience has taught you that those empty moments are caused by fatigue so deep you know you could lay down on the tundra in your waders and sleep for hours, and that its all part of the adventure, part of wilderness, part of you. And when your not there, you sure wish you were. Awfully quite in the lower 48 this week.

Rituals

I know. The last trip is barely in the books (a movie not even made yet, a blog not yet written) but here I go.  Slowly beginning pre-trip rituals.  Laying out the gear...  enjoy.

Pregame jitters

Golden, that's the term Pablo used to describe the conditions we might find on the famed brown sugar creek. With high flows from dam releases necessitated by epic snow fall and subsequent run off, just now coming down and the potential of hungry browns and a salmon fly hatch, the table is set for a memorable outing. Brown sugar has been anathema to me. I've had decent days and I've had mediocre days there, while Pablo and Hondo DeMule have had hopper crushing days of satiation, seems every time I was not in company. A little added pressure comes this year as Jr. The yet unconverted prodigal son will be along, I'm hoping for that magical moment that will transform him from dutiful fishing partner to rabid trout bum, ( well, not too rabid as I am still paying his tuition).

Expectations in this game are a dangerous thing, and I know JB's delusions of gold are more driven by pent up demand from the failed black canyon expedition than any hard data, but what man ever did travel thousands of miles to done waders with out a 49ers pan full of optimism!

So, to the brown sugar gods (last time didn't we catch more rainbows?) I tip my hat and genuflect with the hopes that a trout will rise.

The Best Laid Plans of trout and men

Dang it all to heck! Teeth grinding frustration of the winter from Hades. Why didn't I have more sense than to check the snow pack before booking a flight to Boise back in march for June. I'll tell you why! Because winter does that to a fisherman. It makes him desperate and wildly optimistic at the same time, a heckofa bad combo. Now it's flipping June the summer solstice and there is too much snow to get into big creek. My calendar is a mess, I spent a horrific amount of money on gear for this trip, Wilson help me, wore out an Alaska air visa. Pablo is heading north in a month anyway so this would only be an appetizer for him. I smell the curse of the fish gods settling upon me. It was the Kvichak/ Pongo double haul last year that stoked their displeasure for sure. I figure with Pablos triple haul this summer we'll go down in a fiery ball of float plane against an ungivinuk mountainside, and that will be that. dang it all to heck. My greed has gotten the best of me! I'm being humbled. For the first time in 3 years I will spend July 4th on a merrily decorated golf cart with a pack of octogenarians and toddlers dancing to beach music, lighting sparklers and watching fireworks. Instead of in an airport come or going to the great hatchery of the north country. Dang it all to heck!

The UnGuided~ Season 1 Episode 1 The Naknek

Gov asked me to write about my experience on the Naknek; but I cannot. That whole trip was a roller coaster ride, at times I even thought of throwing up (Eddies Restaurant, don't get the Reuben).
That river, oh that river; she gives and takes away. Fickle as a ...(insert favorite noun)... her blustery moods can destroy, she can give up her jewels from the crystal water, or she can write you a $200 ticket. Either way, you'll never forget her. She will forever haunt you. There, I did have something to write.

Here it is.. Episode 1

The UnGuided: Pilot (unedited)

Here's the Pilot episode for the upcoming (after editing) new reality show.  Anyway, this is a quick peek at some raw footage. I'll see if I can put something together in a few weeks, or at least wax poetic (Guv'na's raison d'etre), till then.. enjoy Naknek Chrome! Narration courtesy of Mikey.

Sometimes the Dog bites your Behind!

I only write this to document the conditions of BC on 5-5-11. The feelings are still to close to the surface, for me to speak or write about the events of that day.