tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2393841518541153092024-03-05T01:53:06.542-05:00Of Rock & RiffleNorth American Genryu - Adventures in Tenkara & Backpacking.Klagshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13404953454187858180noreply@blogger.comBlogger96125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-239384151854115309.post-26609544858255541152019-03-18T01:08:00.003-04:002019-03-18T21:53:14.999-04:00The Last Day in the Headwaters for 2018<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
Last year was not a great fishing season in Colorado. We had a really low snowpack for the winter of 2017/18 and there was little rain, as usual, after that. I didn't spend a lot of time in the headwaters in the summer of 2018, but one of the most memorable trips was the last trip of the season for me...</div>
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I drove up to the headwaters to catch a window of nice weather right before the first predicted snow of the season in late September or early October. I had just been visited by my parents, and then recovered from a cold after that, so I was eager to get into the headwaters and just "let go."<br />
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Being in this kind of wilderness is regenerative... it re-charges my soul and makes me feel completely alive. The warmth of the sun, the gentle wind and the colors of fall had me swooning over this spot that I hand't fished in a few years. Its a particularly delicate headwaters that holds Greenback Cutthroat and isn't all that easy to access if you don't like ultra-steep banks and boulder-climbing.</div>
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But all that scrambling and sliding pays off nicely as the native residents are seemingly always hungry...</div>
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I love fall in the mountains here - the days can still be very warm, but you feel the cold wind of winter creeping up. The aspens turn yellow and orange, juxtaposed against the deep-green of the evergreens... there is a certain feeling of summer's content lingering, yet also a hint of the lonely winter-longing that you know is coming soon.<br />
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This particular headwaters is quite well suited for Tenkara fishing in most places, but there are some extremely tight sections of willows and messy overgrown brush that is best just to ignore and walk around. Fishing through these sections can be more annoying and time-consuming than its worth, so I usually hike around them.<br />
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The greenbacks in this stream are just so beautiful and vibrant... a lot of orange and some pink hues can be found, and they were shimmering brightly in the mid-day sun. The fish are generally not very big in this stream as it is small and has been flood-damaged many times over.</div>
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I spent the entire day walking up these headwaters, and the fishing was actually extremely difficult on this particular day. Morning yielded only a few, but as the sun warmed the water up, the fish became much more active. I also discovered later that I was just days behind a group of other Tenkara anglers who had also pulled countless fish out of the stream so I know it had been hit hard that particular week.</div>
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Nonetheless, I managed at least 25 to hand on this day, a respectable number if not a bit low for my average on this kind of headwaters. I never obsess over numbers, and frankly its hard to keep track after 20 anyway!<br />
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Up in those high peaks behind the evergreen forest lie the lakes which feed this river... the peaks above them would normally still have snow on top, feeding them fresh melt-water, but this year that snow had melted months before, resulting in very low water all season.</div>
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If you can book the campsites early enough in the year, there is some great camping along those high mountain lakes... but good luck getting a reservation for a campsite up there on a weekend!<br />
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I also like to carry a nice piece of glass with me on all my fishing journeys. Cannabis is a huge part of the outdoor experience for many, connecting us even deeper with the flow of the universe and the wilderness around us. I find it acts as a "crutch" to help undo certain negative daily societal patterns and jolt me back into the natural flow of the natural world around me. I always sacrifice a small prime bud to the river during my first sesh of the day as some kind of odd ritual... do you have any odd rituals you partake in while fishing?<br />
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I enjoyed some Lemon Heads (Lemon G x Face-Off OG BX1) and then took a lunch break. I watched a nice cutthroat trout feed in the run above me while eating my sandwich, and then when I was finished, I packed up and caught that fish, pictured below.<br />
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You can see from these photos just how low the water was... luckily it was cold and the fish were looking healthy even though it was not an easy season for survival on their behalf.<br />
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I love when the parr marks remain longer than usual. This fish had such beautiful orange cheeks and dark parr marks, it really stood out to me.<br />
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But above that run was another even more beautiful plunge pool. I stayed low and cast from far back, grabbing another beautiful native resident...</div>
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... which had completely different markings and no parr marks left whatsoever.<br />
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I had time for a few last pools before I had to hike back to the car, and I took my time enjoying every cast.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTdoTV98-JNiR-keYAPopc9aNqs6Xnn_vspmJ1RxW7mqnxVoKpvjM1RqFzKVwE3t9EWEu2JCHVitj5EG2PUGhKQdtxBZsm-3eqXOx5ic_730R2Wh_DJviFPb2EUVmoy-NUssodUDQdfio/s1600/IMG_4902.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTdoTV98-JNiR-keYAPopc9aNqs6Xnn_vspmJ1RxW7mqnxVoKpvjM1RqFzKVwE3t9EWEu2JCHVitj5EG2PUGhKQdtxBZsm-3eqXOx5ic_730R2Wh_DJviFPb2EUVmoy-NUssodUDQdfio/s320/IMG_4902.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
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This last fish of the day was a solid example of a native trout for this river... layers and layers of color, just the right amount of spotting, and an ultra-vibrant slash of orange lending this fish its name.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyqTUyIlp5F9oDOVMqqYwaOj-gxmrqj8GyRFK2_S9YDgenAvcFhM4BuS9T7eOwul8Qy3jAXTQT0zN2htSAsYXsAX9tfqNdUwyHl5r_Khzma2lpdNM6ck_bWTFLQbp3sKxkq6vvv2imOQw/s1600/IMG_4899.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyqTUyIlp5F9oDOVMqqYwaOj-gxmrqj8GyRFK2_S9YDgenAvcFhM4BuS9T7eOwul8Qy3jAXTQT0zN2htSAsYXsAX9tfqNdUwyHl5r_Khzma2lpdNM6ck_bWTFLQbp3sKxkq6vvv2imOQw/s320/IMG_4899.jpg" width="320" /></a><br />
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I scrambled up the banks and took a few moments to soak in the beauty of the late afternoon light on the trees. I was beat from a rough day, but the world around me lit me up inside and gave me a second wind almost right away.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifNCDGvxzmow8N3JY-vJWaVQQ9qyDu18uNaZUjHswf0hZYFo6dKEW5n-ia0oBlzOOZY4CvukCBuKIYZQMUHPAJlHcH-s0PpjOo-QY8bw-GdruCvN32BAkehyphenhyphenzGukuy90bJhkslpT0LPT4/s1600/IMG_4929.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifNCDGvxzmow8N3JY-vJWaVQQ9qyDu18uNaZUjHswf0hZYFo6dKEW5n-ia0oBlzOOZY4CvukCBuKIYZQMUHPAJlHcH-s0PpjOo-QY8bw-GdruCvN32BAkehyphenhyphenzGukuy90bJhkslpT0LPT4/s320/IMG_4929.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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As I walked back towards the trail I noted to myself the amount of flood damage this area has had over time... yet the ecosystem still survives.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgj_PqAouZIgFwPJ-2Vx3NuVJ8uEL6XL6YYfyMZy-u_fL9VFgezm6bYwmuQcy7gLMbfjdGFfyXz4z7PnwifSLDRzd1TzcUvYONR6q8mVTGZWin2ZGvOtKhbgBu5ovpOYQsKOb7MKgVXDD0/s1600/IMG_4928.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgj_PqAouZIgFwPJ-2Vx3NuVJ8uEL6XL6YYfyMZy-u_fL9VFgezm6bYwmuQcy7gLMbfjdGFfyXz4z7PnwifSLDRzd1TzcUvYONR6q8mVTGZWin2ZGvOtKhbgBu5ovpOYQsKOb7MKgVXDD0/s320/IMG_4928.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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There was such a sense of chaos looking out over the river... something about the massive erosion damage and the Aspens looking like they were on fire just hit me hard, but not in a bad way. Nature is powerful.<br />
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Looking east back towards the trailhead:<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjomR8jyh1-ImRdcPVeAOXSns8mWFSF1dVlApwWfy74shzt6QjF1Kn-ix9-VXM5tj9S_Pp_rM1_oSqlzHF9jgcEiRFDHzhcAWAkDMBVIo_VbzhoKYALeVyt8H_MRdpSduQhAhoi6-uZUGg/s1600/IMG_4931.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjomR8jyh1-ImRdcPVeAOXSns8mWFSF1dVlApwWfy74shzt6QjF1Kn-ix9-VXM5tj9S_Pp_rM1_oSqlzHF9jgcEiRFDHzhcAWAkDMBVIo_VbzhoKYALeVyt8H_MRdpSduQhAhoi6-uZUGg/s320/IMG_4931.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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I walked down the trail back towards the car, knowing this would likely be the last chance I had to fish the headwaters before the snow came ... but it was not bittersweet. I was already looking ahead to the potential of a snowier next winter, a rainier next spring, and another year with more water and better fishing soon to come.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMP8St-0oLzEGLhWuNfgcQodUfQeHKQbPii2ae5H3pMSaAetcbC4aX9mH_nrXGaVxd53CFFNgfni-BKPgnpGFQdTn1j_8V6DvWJnAyD749YIAixmRY9oGtSci-uR7vSQXwHJf9Dr9o6OU/s1600/IMG_4915.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMP8St-0oLzEGLhWuNfgcQodUfQeHKQbPii2ae5H3pMSaAetcbC4aX9mH_nrXGaVxd53CFFNgfni-BKPgnpGFQdTn1j_8V6DvWJnAyD749YIAixmRY9oGtSci-uR7vSQXwHJf9Dr9o6OU/s320/IMG_4915.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
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The sun setting over the mountains to the west gave me one last gift of natural beauty before disappearing. The cold began to fall on the mountainside, and I doubled my pace back to the car to keep warm. I knew memories of this day would linger and I began to plan my adventures for headwaters season 2019...<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7JTOtxN1viDtbSxzXaPt-qSRY7q077NJTZSUKDqo6QDuwsKvD4oVXvQOC-9dM-aBdNVESUYIpEQwl38BXYHSS2kstMZ3N1P7pwseBOk8sL9CglAPjFt1wxMqcfeVuJAexAzwGvheX9Ao/s1600/IMG_4938.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7JTOtxN1viDtbSxzXaPt-qSRY7q077NJTZSUKDqo6QDuwsKvD4oVXvQOC-9dM-aBdNVESUYIpEQwl38BXYHSS2kstMZ3N1P7pwseBOk8sL9CglAPjFt1wxMqcfeVuJAexAzwGvheX9Ao/s320/IMG_4938.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
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See you out on the water soon!</div>
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<br />Klagshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13404953454187858180noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-239384151854115309.post-482743887170749092019-01-06T00:19:00.002-05:002019-01-06T00:20:06.951-05:00Chasing Greenbacks in the headwaters, early season 2018<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
Many times I have hiked past this stretch of water with no intention of fishing it... and so it dawned on me in early 2018 that I should make a day of fishing this long stretch below a popular trail in RMNP, even if just to stop wondering what it was like as I hiked by, time and time again.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4n3a5zfvn081wwwtQnaMm6MPztAY7WFevxx_FREJIK5qT8AjHU2MsWNKI6jH612OkUO7KLqaWZgn19uacdWZnWU-VOw589jH1DvKzwf_bfyyzBsCg6NCcM7nEVgVW8UBZv9XnrnTI0Ro/s1600/_DSF4490.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1069" data-original-width="1600" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4n3a5zfvn081wwwtQnaMm6MPztAY7WFevxx_FREJIK5qT8AjHU2MsWNKI6jH612OkUO7KLqaWZgn19uacdWZnWU-VOw589jH1DvKzwf_bfyyzBsCg6NCcM7nEVgVW8UBZv9XnrnTI0Ro/s320/_DSF4490.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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This particular stretch begins above a popular tourist lookout. Yet just a few minutes beyond that crowded place, where children and adults alike complain about all 10-15 hard minutes of walking they've just suffered through, one can step off the trail, walk up along the stream and instantly feel a million miles from civilization. Not many people fish this water, and I'm not entirely sure why. It is productive.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwGpvZIqrhDqDkP0iIJicy74lWGbfn1LPQazjZ_aDFb8oABphGHla8y2tJaGH83QXGF0BgaOlj8Kt9NRmZyWCWwFkZPLEW8Pr4xHlNJ5KFWlethAPMAPw811WzoB1FX30gF7Q0lAHC7kc/s1600/_DSF4492.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1069" data-original-width="1600" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwGpvZIqrhDqDkP0iIJicy74lWGbfn1LPQazjZ_aDFb8oABphGHla8y2tJaGH83QXGF0BgaOlj8Kt9NRmZyWCWwFkZPLEW8Pr4xHlNJ5KFWlethAPMAPw811WzoB1FX30gF7Q0lAHC7kc/s320/_DSF4492.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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Maybe its because of the bushes and the need for more precise casting? Maybe its the fact that there is no easy way in here without pushing through thick scrub brush and risking surprising the occasional moose or elk? Or maybe its just that most people don't realize what that little bit of extra effort can bring...</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfS67m84vvvOEBtlITaPl3s467KZKEuFg98IStkp-MSrxqkdAYqmbydlpHr6SsMz-8hVuuntsf9Ku4WWlfc7S201EwkBd4K3bIo7Sp78pLAghEYC9nFilcS8PfnI_wiv3wJffFObUa6Io/s1600/_DSF4500.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1069" data-original-width="1600" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfS67m84vvvOEBtlITaPl3s467KZKEuFg98IStkp-MSrxqkdAYqmbydlpHr6SsMz-8hVuuntsf9Ku4WWlfc7S201EwkBd4K3bIo7Sp78pLAghEYC9nFilcS8PfnI_wiv3wJffFObUa6Io/s320/_DSF4500.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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Working my way up I grabbed a few brookies and a rainbow in these picturesque spots... a nice way to start the day, but not what I came for. I realized I'd need to get up above the next waterfall to get into the cutthroat water... but I didn't rush it because this place was special.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSSl6GJXA1F7YM0v7biq02Z3K4FhrWbZhb1SUzPu00ndcKJaWvseIw-GYl2NWFVyu8TsqMMl2eaQwdQCcA5c_Z1zO0Zhka7LNnmySPVkck6GD8sW3YiBA3BbgfNxYVBlRosrj_zf8wNvI/s1600/_DSF4502.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1069" data-original-width="1600" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSSl6GJXA1F7YM0v7biq02Z3K4FhrWbZhb1SUzPu00ndcKJaWvseIw-GYl2NWFVyu8TsqMMl2eaQwdQCcA5c_Z1zO0Zhka7LNnmySPVkck6GD8sW3YiBA3BbgfNxYVBlRosrj_zf8wNvI/s320/_DSF4502.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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Walking past pools teeming with brookies and rainbows I took my time to breathe the clean air and feel that feeling you get when you first set foot back in the high mountains after a winter away from the streams. These meadows in the upper headwaters region are just beyond words. There is almost no way to put into words the feeling, the smells, the sounds... I decided to lay in the grass for a while and look at the sky. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPvN5TcteeSIxSXzZuoA5opPgm2C1AchR0nxV7rxiGRecrqwwIjSeIOOE-3xe6YsvP1a7a4T9TdgDq6A9mwvGiGTVClS5qHit2YfJXAD1O6dKY487lFGUCY88KYthHa2QY8NQaEluIhjQ/s1600/_DSF4513.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1069" data-original-width="1600" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPvN5TcteeSIxSXzZuoA5opPgm2C1AchR0nxV7rxiGRecrqwwIjSeIOOE-3xe6YsvP1a7a4T9TdgDq6A9mwvGiGTVClS5qHit2YfJXAD1O6dKY487lFGUCY88KYthHa2QY8NQaEluIhjQ/s320/_DSF4513.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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This particular spot is probably one of the most beautiful high alpine meadows I've ever stumbled upon while fishing, and I made sure to take it all in while I had it all to myself.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGQRHQa-AnuZbvkN1gajr5oZYQ3E59uh7n_XK722QyOIHH2BEbxNlI8AKA6oifyQZ8uMTm9jDY6Ocv1BLB-E60ucry6pSkxU4Wpq7CJfA0bT6lrXKU16Mkog4EVMKja56853QMttYeNvQ/s1600/_DSF4518.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1069" data-original-width="1600" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGQRHQa-AnuZbvkN1gajr5oZYQ3E59uh7n_XK722QyOIHH2BEbxNlI8AKA6oifyQZ8uMTm9jDY6Ocv1BLB-E60ucry6pSkxU4Wpq7CJfA0bT6lrXKU16Mkog4EVMKja56853QMttYeNvQ/s320/_DSF4518.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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At the top of the meadow the gradient increased immediately...</div>
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...and above the first set of little falls I found what I was looking for right away.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhT0ZsgURkCkhmmkI4onkCqbhpX0URh2wJ7TnvhCc0_iCDIUE9OO_V4iQnP-cb5F1eI3Bwq9rGdi7mcJ4IQZsVTlqLRO2znImBSj_3whTOFtZlYyDHDdivfozWxe3EJfNSiwnf78D48gH0/s1600/_DSF4537.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1069" data-original-width="1600" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhT0ZsgURkCkhmmkI4onkCqbhpX0URh2wJ7TnvhCc0_iCDIUE9OO_V4iQnP-cb5F1eI3Bwq9rGdi7mcJ4IQZsVTlqLRO2znImBSj_3whTOFtZlYyDHDdivfozWxe3EJfNSiwnf78D48gH0/s320/_DSF4537.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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This is the kind of thing dreams are made of... and in turn, those dreams are the kind of thing that can make one walk away from one life in order to embrace another.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-112cKGP0nMHyg0WVFk977KqKKsWTQia9fuqNP4TtAIxnOxJfnrlXqevCmgCYYnTpGpRvu5P1wVvRM54xo0wHuSGRDLZQdjGrNr88wyvfBbyReNqM1Xb2ifFrJBYelRzBCY-2JiDIfgE/s1600/_DSF4529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1069" data-original-width="1600" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-112cKGP0nMHyg0WVFk977KqKKsWTQia9fuqNP4TtAIxnOxJfnrlXqevCmgCYYnTpGpRvu5P1wVvRM54xo0wHuSGRDLZQdjGrNr88wyvfBbyReNqM1Xb2ifFrJBYelRzBCY-2JiDIfgE/s320/_DSF4529.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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Navigating this particular section of river is not easy... there are many tight-walled mini canyons... the underbrush is thick... there is wildlife all around. In all actuality, much of this is not that far from the trail. But it is not easy to reach from the trail.. and the sound of the water and the thick trees drown out any indication of these realities.</div>
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The best way up is usually walking right up through the waterfalls.</div>
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At the top of one set of falls is always a nice pool... and another set of waterfalls!</div>
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And in every one of those pockets a fish awaits your properly presented fly... as well as your sloppily presented fly.</div>
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The fishing in these places is not particularly hard... what matters most is positioning, angle of the light so one doesn't cast a shadow, and a light footed style of travel that attempts not to warn the fish by way of heavy vibrations from one's feet.</div>
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Sometimes I wonder if I sound like a broken recored extolling the virtues of getting to these places to see these fish, these flowers, these views...</div>
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But if the record is broken, and it keeps playing back your favorite line of the song, is that such a bad thing? </div>
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Large boulders create small pockets of soft water at the edge of the raging current... and one can always find a fish there... it is like the promise of a healthy stream such as this.</div>
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Coming up to the upper section of the Canyon I stopped to take it all in again. At that moment, a helicopter began to circle above. I was concerned about how they began to drop low and linger, and I turned and gave the two thumbs up sign to make sure they'd see I was in this place on purpose, by choice, and to avoid wasting a ranger's time. They left right away. Good call. I later learned that a hiker had gone missing in this drainage a few days prior, so they must have hoped to have found this person... but alas it was just me, losing myself in this place on purpose for just one short day.</div>
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That moment did serve as a reminder that being in these places does not come without risk. I like to tell people where I'm going just in case I don't make it back... but thinking about those things and living in fear rather than living in the moment would be a huge mistake... of that I am sure.</div>
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In the tiny eddy on the left under the long grass, I hooked a solid 19-plus inch wild greenback. It was one of the nicest headwaters fish I've hooked in a stream this small in ages, if not ever. I was a little sad when it wiggled off the hook at my feet, because I really would have liked a photo of that one. Luckily another smaller fish was waiting for a fly right next to that one, so I got a photo of that fish instead.</div>
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By this point I had caught well over 40 fish on this one fly. I felt like it was in surprisingly good shape, and so I continued to fish it. Sometimes the more damaged it gets, the more fish seem to like it.</div>
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Which would you rather eat?</div>
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The view at the top of the canyon opens into a beautiful rocky bowl that holds a cold glacial lake. The swampy outflow is usually full of trout. Is it still Tenkara once you cross the line above the first fall into the flat/still water of the lake? Nope! It is not. Once one is in the lake... one is then just fishing with a fixed line rod. </div>
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Yet the result is the same... now was that so hard to distinguish? </div>
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I finished the day with some rather large and spectacularly colored Greenbacks from the lake before heading back down to the car. </div>
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These fish are truly magnificent...</div>
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What a life it is... I hope more of you come join me for adventures in the Colorado front range headwaters in 2019! </div>
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<br />Klagshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13404953454187858180noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-239384151854115309.post-49440398341555296982018-10-18T14:49:00.003-04:002018-10-20T13:16:46.693-04:00#Tenkara: a representation of the West's contribution to Tenkara so far? <div style="text-align: center;">
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Its been a while since I've felt like writing... a lot of things that are annoying, boring and generally not worth discussing on a blog have been going on in life, and so I've been less inspired to write... instead spending all my spare time out fishing, hiking, riding a bike and generally trying to feel free again when possible. It was a productive summer for me in terms of Tenkara... but I've hit a wall. Maybe Tenkara has hit a wall. I don't know that I can progress further without more one on one instruction, was bummed about not being able to get to Oni School - and that got me thinking... some might say Tenkara is also kind of in a rut right now. Not for everyone, but for many.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyYLLlx5RhyCEdOizWYdR8srYe0dEv-xt4BKJV0Dh_4ZQFr1d236an2yEW_qJ3LyxM2eLyeHqb9P_IRbHqtuhonrji-KYp6pOcwGUu32YOAGfdhcKBwfj0EZhyTGAoK9znkjvNl0A3YW8/s1600/44315850_10217321777225214_563873474469167104_n+%25282%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" border="0" data-original-height="710" data-original-width="750" height="302" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyYLLlx5RhyCEdOizWYdR8srYe0dEv-xt4BKJV0Dh_4ZQFr1d236an2yEW_qJ3LyxM2eLyeHqb9P_IRbHqtuhonrji-KYp6pOcwGUu32YOAGfdhcKBwfj0EZhyTGAoK9znkjvNl0A3YW8/s320/44315850_10217321777225214_563873474469167104_n+%25282%2529.jpg" title="" width="320" /></a></div>
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The arguments, the noobs, the will to disagree before learning, the same old story of minimalism and always having a compact rod with you; marketed to the same old group of massdrop-loving, kickstarter-backing, enthusiastic outdoor-lovers, has created a predictable and totally boring stream of new anglers that will never even know what an advanced Tenkara angler looks like. </div>
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Sadly, chances are most Tenkara anglers in the West don't yet understand the fundamentals of casting a rod that needs to be loaded with correct casting stroke rather than weight of fly line, and who will never reach their full potential as fishermen following #Tenkara. That is not their fault, though. And by no means is this article meant to attack them in any way. It is about the state of Tenkara in the west, the lack of good instruction and factually correct information disseminated, which voices get heard in "public" and the effect of all of that on the sport as a whole. Not all agree that the effect has been good.</div>
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This is not a popular opinion. Most of my opinions aren't. That makes me an unpopular guy in the Tenkara community in the West - and as you've likely seen or guessed by now, I really couldn't care less about that because I know that it is worth whatever complications come along with calling out those who co-opted the sport we love in order to attempt to preserve it from being altered completely.</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 12.8px;">Is this really a good way to get more eyes on your regurgitated products with new colors and brand names?<br />
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I also don't feel the need to "pad" the facts for people just so they won't get defensive in reacting to something that they were wrong about. Nobody has ever padded the rough realities of life for other people except maybe their families... and not every kid even had that luxury. Its not how people all think, especially not where I am from. Thankfully, not everyone takes offense to being corrected, or to people who don't pad their wording. A saying comes to mind: "Do not correct a fool for he will hate you, but correct a wise man and he will thank you." Best attitude towards learning is right there in that quote.</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAktO4Z8rQqY2jW6lp0pTkLGRK1szCQ_I-naNPKuJ0IHobzHrCVqXIBwy3uENseWW0-SKf_NGthpdsJthLBIJJ7KpKE3kH7mkeUmR-86TEaBw5XDfnxOIMPKTn4_VSYurmzMyybinyHc4/s1600/Screen+Shot+2018-10-17+at+11.50.35+PM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="898" data-original-width="1600" height="179" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAktO4Z8rQqY2jW6lp0pTkLGRK1szCQ_I-naNPKuJ0IHobzHrCVqXIBwy3uENseWW0-SKf_NGthpdsJthLBIJJ7KpKE3kH7mkeUmR-86TEaBw5XDfnxOIMPKTn4_VSYurmzMyybinyHc4/s320/Screen+Shot+2018-10-17+at+11.50.35+PM.png" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 12.8px;">Wrong species... that plus Rapala really spells Tenkara, doesn't it? </td></tr>
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But who am I and what is my authority?</div>
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I am nobody. Just a guy who has been to Japan, been privileged enough to fish with and hang with some of the most legendary Tenkara anglers of this generation, and calculated enough to listen to them rather than argue. And I want them to be able to tell their story, rather than us telling it for them. It doesn't matter if I'm right or wrong... what matters is really who tells the story.</div>
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In my pursuit to help educate a small niche on what Tenkara actually is, (and what it is not,) and to attempt to spread a different message than the American "Tenkara rod" companies, I have, as a result of my consistent and unpopular opinions, isolated a lot of people I didn't know by mistake; ranted, shared important facts and knowledge, pushed certain techniques, been wrong, been right, made friends, lost friends, made enemies, and made friends again with countless people.</div>
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I am constantly being told to go away, be quiet, constantly being blocked from groups and always being told to change my message or the way I communicate it "for my own good." That won't happen, and this isn't about me. Tenkara rod companies here showed Tenkara to the west, made some fantastic content and good products, then soon after changed the message in order to have a broader audience to market to. "Growing Tenkara" is really about selling more Tenkara rods and helping more people catch fish without really knowing what Tenkara is. Am I the only one who weighs the benefits of the cozy image of those beginners smiling, catching fish and having a great day while helping companies stay alive and profit, against the risks of turning Tenkara into fishing for people who want to buy a compact or light-weight rod but don't know there's more to it than that? Does one become informed or an expert after a few hours of watching videos online and looking at hash-tagged photos? Or through seeking existing knowledge and thirsting for more? Does buying gear from one company or another mean you are fishing Tenkara? Or is it something else? Do people stop to ask themselves these questions? Some do, some don't. I did not, for a long time. I am glad I now do.</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 12.8px;">I can really see the tenkara community loving this one... 😂</td></tr>
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For many adopters of Tenkara as currently defined, disappointment over feeling abandoned and shunned by the reps of the companies or the owners themselves turned into to shame, shame turned to resentment, resentment turned to anger and anger turned into arguments and childish behavior. The reaction from most Tenkara influencers was the same - shut out the dissent and quiet the voices that shared inconvenient facts from Japan because it created friction. Guess what? There is no life without friction, especially in a pre-Trump and Trump-ruled fact-less America. The grey area has gotten so big that there's pretty much no more black or white left... </div>
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Most who cared about details and learning more than how to hook a fish with a Tenkara rig left the popular spots in the online community to create new groups... and those same issues just moved from group to group, so they left those groups too. There is no escaping the angry mob who wants nothing more than to remove all disagreement from the internet, or for it to "all just be fishing," which is impossible, and leads to stagnation... where we are right now. Many of the people who first discovered Tenkara or who embrace the current definition exist in dark corners of the internet, sharing memes, photos of fishing, cold beer, and fine cannabis. Those who want to learn seek us out and we teach them individually, in real life, passing on what we hope is the most "authentic" version of modern Tenkara, using the tools we have today.</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1_fLrOShVYJ1i6lN2IdyyxGjqHfFEILHgX_APlff-9ZBhElWpp4Mzz7r8snAwDCEnQUP8FvZ2K0vWrgDRUcHOdbWKurz0_XWb1yubPlOVuu5dmkB2kab7aGDPPmNpeU9nNQwB74xkpFs/s1600/image1.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1136" data-original-width="640" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1_fLrOShVYJ1i6lN2IdyyxGjqHfFEILHgX_APlff-9ZBhElWpp4Mzz7r8snAwDCEnQUP8FvZ2K0vWrgDRUcHOdbWKurz0_XWb1yubPlOVuu5dmkB2kab7aGDPPmNpeU9nNQwB74xkpFs/s320/image1.png" width="180" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 12.8px;">Remind you of a certain character from a Hayao Miyazaki film?</td></tr>
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Throughout all of it, the goal has remained the same - help prevent falsehoods and assumptions from being spread about Tenkara, and try to shift the focus away from beginners and to more intermediate and advanced anglers who can embrace the complicated nuances and specific sets of techniques that make Tenkara special. I have not realized until recently how to do that - or why it hasn't happened naturally yet... but it is so clear now I don't know why it didn't occur to me...</div>
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The fact is that the "story of Tenkara" has been told or co-opted by white or Western and non-Asian business owners, globally. The story of Tenkara has never been told by the Japanese. The language barrier is real and English spread wider and faster... but now that I have this in mind I know what I think we need to do next.... help give the Japanese more of a direct voice here.</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSzxJGJzNDXKZA51rzzbfuogVQelDEJrMnqLwbgOmCIKxav7PKoucyi_c6GVC1UW1xadhlA8YFOqSC3eRKfWneBpMqB4nacc0Raq86DRSdaXKJHxpqlmU44mtfa6hCgClIQpg956qEapY/s1600/image3.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1136" data-original-width="640" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSzxJGJzNDXKZA51rzzbfuogVQelDEJrMnqLwbgOmCIKxav7PKoucyi_c6GVC1UW1xadhlA8YFOqSC3eRKfWneBpMqB4nacc0Raq86DRSdaXKJHxpqlmU44mtfa6hCgClIQpg956qEapY/s320/image3.png" width="180" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 12.8px;">Oh yeah...this one is DEFINITELY Tenkara, right?</td></tr>
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Most of the rod companies would love it if people who think and talk like me would shut up. It would be more convenient. Less "controversy." As I write this I am sure I am being blocked by another group who is offended by this very message. The fact that they choose to approach it this way and try to block it out speaks volumes to the truth and the realities of what is going on... self serving interests or simple human emotions, possibly also reacting in fear to inconvenient truths. It is hard for any of us to recognize when we have lost our way or to accept we are wrong, and it is easy to place blame but reality always brings things full circle eventually...</div>
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Fact is, if we as a western Tenkara community or industry can give a voice to the Japanese and not for profit or marketing visibility of our Western companies, we'd be doing the world a favor... at least the world of Tenkara.</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 12.8px;">Nothing says Tenkara like a pile of dead fish in the mud and some slow/warm water...</td></tr>
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Going so far as to ban or block certain perspectives to protect selfish interests, business interests, egos, or the old boys clubs that formed early on just isn't going to help, even though it might feel like it will. One cannot remove dissent or disagreement from the internet. Nor can one expect never to see a rant. But westerners will continue to argue without the facts - psychology dictates so - unless we help shift more of the story back to being told by the Japanese, the original source of Tenkara-related facts.</div>
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Hell, who knows, maybe in the end I'll be wrong and the Japanese will reveal through their stories and facts that Tenkara has a new definition. But I want that to come from them, not our businesses, start-ups and selective story-tellers with money to make or lose.</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpULh9CxfJl9dREF64rt38WXqOjJy71ta87mqF6Y8xCaVfhyphenhyphenxgbsa2AO18I-0KM8Db2xqQcHD1AeYAJ345ArBH158ezFoFYuZJRrQVb_9qoMAigDZnWJHohxwoDxzo_GYnCxqWEirJJZ8/s1600/image5+%25281%2529.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1136" data-original-width="640" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpULh9CxfJl9dREF64rt38WXqOjJy71ta87mqF6Y8xCaVfhyphenhyphenxgbsa2AO18I-0KM8Db2xqQcHD1AeYAJ345ArBH158ezFoFYuZJRrQVb_9qoMAigDZnWJHohxwoDxzo_GYnCxqWEirJJZ8/s320/image5+%25281%2529.png" width="180" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 12.8px;">Epically representative of Tenkara, right?</td></tr>
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But for now we should be asking... where is the content from Japan? Where is the Japanese voice? Who is funding or giving a platform to Japanese anglers that doesn't involve making a profit? Who is willing to put money up without their logo being prominently displayed? Who is willing to pay to translate a slew or books and DVD's without having to sell it as theirs? I see pretty much none of that... I can only hope at least some of it happens behind the scenes. I am sure it does. But we need more.</div>
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Is it so wrong to ask why the story of Tenkara, a Japanese sport, is always told by us "Western" or white people? Instead of writing magazines full of "fair weather tenakra anglers" why not fund 100% Japanese content and keep our western logos small - offering help and money rather than trying to gain it "ourselves?"</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh11is3RgZJenDXRLdGs-9c8SCZLB28OnjPvvM0VNUP4T4YNT2aJhQUpW7pa7leLo2fcXpu9M3TQs5pFhf9Yih1XGbuYh9eKTYvuJPqdLWWghxxyOpWezRQdGZHz0o86dSfhQOC-rKO1Es/s1600/image4.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1136" data-original-width="640" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh11is3RgZJenDXRLdGs-9c8SCZLB28OnjPvvM0VNUP4T4YNT2aJhQUpW7pa7leLo2fcXpu9M3TQs5pFhf9Yih1XGbuYh9eKTYvuJPqdLWWghxxyOpWezRQdGZHz0o86dSfhQOC-rKO1Es/s320/image4.png" width="180" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 12.8px;">Man I wonder why this one isn't on Fujioka-San's website yet!? </td></tr>
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#Tenkara now reflects the choices we in the west have made. #Tenkara is a mirror image of what we have done to confuse the public, the industry, and beyond... and I think it makes sense for that to stop, don't you?</div>
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Just go online and pull up #Tenkara and see what comes up. As you've likely figured out by now, all the photos in this post were pulled from that very search. Bluegill. Ocean fishing. Spinning rods. Fly reels... the list goes on. It isn't the entire picture... but it shouldn't be ANY of the picture really either.</div>
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnkxYpD4JxynF32pZg9J346vEwfv0jEwbiwsDZxS1rnTgfdur3isupdHIDLwB_uBZxI69R6HbCtcX4_8VMdQBaSFTthmV-4v4zmSvJ-9K0ypNBC6cBl8FQFMCLUNdUb-LOvMRzLNpejQY/s1600/IMG_5171.PNG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1136" data-original-width="640" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnkxYpD4JxynF32pZg9J346vEwfv0jEwbiwsDZxS1rnTgfdur3isupdHIDLwB_uBZxI69R6HbCtcX4_8VMdQBaSFTthmV-4v4zmSvJ-9K0ypNBC6cBl8FQFMCLUNdUb-LOvMRzLNpejQY/s320/IMG_5171.PNG" width="180" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 12.8px;">Because Tenkara means spin fishing too, right?</td></tr>
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Are the Japanese Tenkara anglers happy with where we have taken Tenkara? Do we even care? Hard to say, for so many reasons. But we should care, shouldn't we? Tenkara is, after all, Japanese.</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizb61vrSJwNNG3DvZMylCq7BOrxRfGKA_bAo7nmU8VJSmDvYJiG2SCxTCRBjPuXEHKOcHliEh4sJYktbjxofmsy4aFS_vY_IfQCzngoxzzSu9W_wulnOfmw0Ui4M-wYXR_3liH3BQcPgE/s1600/44331984_10160840244405328_2574961270524477440_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="540" data-original-width="960" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizb61vrSJwNNG3DvZMylCq7BOrxRfGKA_bAo7nmU8VJSmDvYJiG2SCxTCRBjPuXEHKOcHliEh4sJYktbjxofmsy4aFS_vY_IfQCzngoxzzSu9W_wulnOfmw0Ui4M-wYXR_3liH3BQcPgE/s320/44331984_10160840244405328_2574961270524477440_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 12.8px;">My favorite Tenkara meme of recent...</td></tr>
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Is #Tenkara - as it is right now - what we want the legacy of Tenkara in the west to be?</div>
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Did we really want to create #Tenkara so that every start up who wants to sell a product to hipsters or any angler and have the next viral kickstarter project use it to get "more attention?" Is it not hilarious we have reached this point?</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGPYzCxHs_E2CH2bO_g3qa1mOCTfXJP41NPSYcEU22V-3C7-TIRNRKBDGrjk7BM4iGpmqGx6_NPPgUUn85GuWuSGYkYXXZy6sy-dVQEM3MLOxb2r5a0OB2QgPXV83-ZdS8P5zhUI-lfqo/s1600/image1+%25282%2529.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1136" data-original-width="640" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGPYzCxHs_E2CH2bO_g3qa1mOCTfXJP41NPSYcEU22V-3C7-TIRNRKBDGrjk7BM4iGpmqGx6_NPPgUUn85GuWuSGYkYXXZy6sy-dVQEM3MLOxb2r5a0OB2QgPXV83-ZdS8P5zhUI-lfqo/s320/image1+%25282%2529.png" width="180" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 12.8px;">Warm water fixed line angling for bass is still not Tenkara... yet.</td></tr>
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Do we want Tenkara to be the thing everyone has to tag their fishing photos of so that people will think they are cool? Do we want the next generation of Japanese anglers to learn about Tenkara from the west, and learn it wrong? Or did we want to put all the effort we can into getting this right and supporting those who created success for the western companies?</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiU1XXPzr1DbzKcRmEp1DjtXj2x3QZNbI2R143x1v0AB7p01RRxR3OB5nQ8ZfiHIiJhNiaFwEDFqeKZ0yBZQXrF95cpDdnzfjBSxexByS73N0ZDQjw8OC2roR-dFxf94eotOdu8L9uVZEE/s1600/Martin+Luther.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="1280" height="160" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiU1XXPzr1DbzKcRmEp1DjtXj2x3QZNbI2R143x1v0AB7p01RRxR3OB5nQ8ZfiHIiJhNiaFwEDFqeKZ0yBZQXrF95cpDdnzfjBSxexByS73N0ZDQjw8OC2roR-dFxf94eotOdu8L9uVZEE/s320/Martin+Luther.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 12.8px;">Martin Luther</td></tr>
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Am I the only one in the world that finds the current state of Tenkara in the west somewhat depressing and kind of a mess? Maybe. But I know if many of the influential people in the sport thought hard about this, they could not entirely disagree. After all, we are talking about money and business. But one can always dream...<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtqUxGiHgxzS8MaL-yLey7KNCj6QxUaYxGprTTXDtbzGtfifYpTCpBhPIc2ROZ-2-wM5y3T3e6ao_r1_Dzni8xpApD_VwBSYaXC_jXixOgeg1_CYku0j-0_IuGoDPWqgcsfvK0TCe0b4g/s1600/44265575_10217313649502026_4142141390261846016_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1000" data-original-width="1000" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtqUxGiHgxzS8MaL-yLey7KNCj6QxUaYxGprTTXDtbzGtfifYpTCpBhPIc2ROZ-2-wM5y3T3e6ao_r1_Dzni8xpApD_VwBSYaXC_jXixOgeg1_CYku0j-0_IuGoDPWqgcsfvK0TCe0b4g/s320/44265575_10217313649502026_4142141390261846016_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 12.8px;">Would you consider this to be a hamburger if that's what half of the hot dog stands had called it when you were a kid because they didn't know any better? </td></tr>
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So in the interest of putting my money where my mouth is, I created a fund and have been adding to it as I can. Its called the "Tenkara Education Fund" and I plan to use it to fund the idea of translating and giving a voice to more Japanese anglers in the West. If you want to know more get in touch. The aim will be to crowdfund our own content to some extent, and to try to provide some funds to support people in Japan who want to make said content and share it or sell it to the rest of the world, without an American or "Western" voice in between them and us. </div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtAKmgeIpGknyFWhc16ZmPnFouRDwWvUoXv-TT_c96-dIpcoHpcFnL6MuDqbv_XJfYMMfFJvxYGbhIWslKvVVuoN5FOrLZ2oiAXq8Ju7obWKaqh0apEtxlmhEBIIkOF7auBKqjbi_ke3A/s1600/IMG_4641.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtAKmgeIpGknyFWhc16ZmPnFouRDwWvUoXv-TT_c96-dIpcoHpcFnL6MuDqbv_XJfYMMfFJvxYGbhIWslKvVVuoN5FOrLZ2oiAXq8Ju7obWKaqh0apEtxlmhEBIIkOF7auBKqjbi_ke3A/s320/IMG_4641.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 12.8px;">Now that is #Tenkara...</td></tr>
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And in the meanwhile, stay tuned... I have tons of content from the last year or two that so badly needs to be shared, and I am gearing up to do that... embracing the season of writing, tying and waiting for that first headwaters trout from 2019! If I haven't pissed you off yet then thanks for sticking with the ideals I've tried to support... Happy early winter fishing to all.<br />
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Klagshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13404953454187858180noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-239384151854115309.post-4953504184122560412018-06-21T01:14:00.004-04:002018-06-21T01:14:59.994-04:00When In Melt-Out Doubt... Fish The High Alpine Lakes<div style="text-align: center;">
After the "secret season" in March and early April, melt-out begins and the rivers rage and boil over until June or sometimes even July. During that time the best move is to focus on the hiking, early season mushroom hunting, photography... and fishing the lakes as they melt out!</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyhcD-FUGrPtBZCI058yCQt-dGEPdHNq4KP8HHDvk9xo6cADPm7WeKYVlrO2eV2gltIoyKDbcGD51HtEnW6eDGvyxkIo8QrqeGEKHLxZOKbnR5O1u6OsdXJRjO3RHCcsC87nOxqq55Jzs/s1600/_DSF3969.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1069" data-original-width="1600" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyhcD-FUGrPtBZCI058yCQt-dGEPdHNq4KP8HHDvk9xo6cADPm7WeKYVlrO2eV2gltIoyKDbcGD51HtEnW6eDGvyxkIo8QrqeGEKHLxZOKbnR5O1u6OsdXJRjO3RHCcsC87nOxqq55Jzs/s320/_DSF3969.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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Once soil temps hit the 50's I start to see mushrooms popping here and there. False morels are a common site in conifer forests along streams. The real thing is much harder to find in the high alpine environment.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDAteejQVuSYYiVHnId6R43SnF-n4J8zH9-fW89j-bqx3WLoDHihiWfqLmV8rH1Qn8Jd-ngNrBd6zhKZ0vBqG7C_dmmF7Ey3mq3dOf4uPMK5bmZWBD4-AjJYnilFmz1rljD2TS6yeNkks/s1600/_DSF3970.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1069" data-original-width="1600" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDAteejQVuSYYiVHnId6R43SnF-n4J8zH9-fW89j-bqx3WLoDHihiWfqLmV8rH1Qn8Jd-ngNrBd6zhKZ0vBqG7C_dmmF7Ey3mq3dOf4uPMK5bmZWBD4-AjJYnilFmz1rljD2TS6yeNkks/s320/_DSF3970.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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Wildflowers are in bloom, birds sing their songs, and life returns to the mountains.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzSjLslHMWdcRyBWACeJnzOT9nRHdxWPSU_AcQqSA-23AoxPZ9QNaDUpCIY7yU_DkD8smM0EOBbne-WjaVt2rswTAq3rPMhFGF6oho3zrSitqDk4txJ5tycron7FntFHdnz8ttzKgf3gc/s1600/_DSF3982.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1069" data-original-width="1600" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzSjLslHMWdcRyBWACeJnzOT9nRHdxWPSU_AcQqSA-23AoxPZ9QNaDUpCIY7yU_DkD8smM0EOBbne-WjaVt2rswTAq3rPMhFGF6oho3zrSitqDk4txJ5tycron7FntFHdnz8ttzKgf3gc/s320/_DSF3982.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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As much as one is tempted to search for that elusive hole or pocket, it is, assuredly, nothing but a waste of time...</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhamT9hC0ct3wrAaEGiZMC12zafhcONlrss_y3bSDmUKpW5-l_fd7m1ubDLpk4gfQleeNCUawepl3tXbJXcc8IkR0qLgb31gsjUyuMLF5_aO0q46t6qUxtHi1wgtbRjvbhB-ibHepEm7E/s1600/_DSF4033.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1069" data-original-width="1600" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhamT9hC0ct3wrAaEGiZMC12zafhcONlrss_y3bSDmUKpW5-l_fd7m1ubDLpk4gfQleeNCUawepl3tXbJXcc8IkR0qLgb31gsjUyuMLF5_aO0q46t6qUxtHi1wgtbRjvbhB-ibHepEm7E/s320/_DSF4033.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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Reaching a stage where one doesn't feel the need to rush into the season and force oneself into unrealistically difficult fishing conditions holds its own rewards. The things you see when you aren't anxious about where you'll catch the next fish are usually some of the best things to be seen...</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzB0KhveGBidiXcEJW5Ng1KT1qeaOt-lZDmy2rMC_lWees1tsP4eY0pG1DxyUCbqFYVYI8HPu6GUHTj1sEG0wUwFJll7x2jZORnu51Th0E2jTQve7he-FVmUFyBgkv4iuhtK_yl_AfXFo/s1600/_DSF4048.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1069" data-original-width="1600" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzB0KhveGBidiXcEJW5Ng1KT1qeaOt-lZDmy2rMC_lWees1tsP4eY0pG1DxyUCbqFYVYI8HPu6GUHTj1sEG0wUwFJll7x2jZORnu51Th0E2jTQve7he-FVmUFyBgkv4iuhtK_yl_AfXFo/s320/_DSF4048.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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Usually the warm sunny weather melts the snow near the trailheads and down below in the canyons... but not the snow up high. Many people presume that they can easily get to the lakes and forget the difference between early June and Late July...</div>
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Spikes for your shoes, maps, off-trail navigating skills, knowledge about post-holing and a non-minimalist gear set are necessary tools for survival here. Early season lake fishing means you get good exercise navigating the more difficult trail conditions... its always an adventure.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8ypCSaXuH9yqCOZtykFB-rkpsyCULRRXM0HsdvhVswtPwdIuNfJSMlJ2a12T7UqweIYp9Dn3UIlADc59IKH42fEvEwbHKbAGjFzG_3I9FD1IL6xcmX7nAkpsOKP6cZAqQawcRZYXbBik/s1600/_DSF4078.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1069" data-original-width="1600" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8ypCSaXuH9yqCOZtykFB-rkpsyCULRRXM0HsdvhVswtPwdIuNfJSMlJ2a12T7UqweIYp9Dn3UIlADc59IKH42fEvEwbHKbAGjFzG_3I9FD1IL6xcmX7nAkpsOKP6cZAqQawcRZYXbBik/s320/_DSF4078.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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This is what you want to see when you arrive at a lake in the early season... some ice still clinging to the shores, ensuring hungry trout that feed with wild abandon.</div>
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An astute angler notices the little details as well as seeing the big picture at the same time. </div>
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While you can use a Tenkara rod to catch trout in lakes without an issue, and while it is a super effective technique that often shocks the local western anglers and leaves them in varied states of disbelief; I have been spending some time with a UL Japanese spinning rod for the sake of fishing in the high wind, and because it allows me to leave Tenkara alone and not contribute to any confusion about what it is and what it is not. Because Tenkara is defined to exclude lakes and still water, and because I have been pushing myself to fish Tenkara as it is defined properly, the spinning rod feels a lot like the "right tool for the job." </div>
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The fish definitely agree. I often use the current and the wind in specific ways... and I have found that trout here appear to really like a slow and jerky action on a spoon rather than a fast and cleanly pulled spinner.</div>
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There's so much beauty in the high mountains, and even though sometimes I can tell conditions will be rough in the streams, its not just about catching fish for me.</div>
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On the way down to the treailhead I saw some new, fresh mushrooms popping... gets me hopeful for the rest of the season. (It originally looked bad due to low snow pack levels.) </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggsrkhn1zUaTXTAXFaHyB1IK-wVKwpZ1GUoz-zYJuIRwsyhe-ruSTRUplnKJVrIoD0PYq1QcCgXH5CssrP3fycweH-YMqPmQgCU9vEMKthM7M7y0SP_5zWqaLDASIL9KN6MVd3rKkDs4g/s1600/_DSF4135.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1069" data-original-width="1600" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggsrkhn1zUaTXTAXFaHyB1IK-wVKwpZ1GUoz-zYJuIRwsyhe-ruSTRUplnKJVrIoD0PYq1QcCgXH5CssrP3fycweH-YMqPmQgCU9vEMKthM7M7y0SP_5zWqaLDASIL9KN6MVd3rKkDs4g/s320/_DSF4135.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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And how could one forget these insects dancing in the late afternoon light? </div>
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<iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dxKS1hTb9GI8yBxfitR2-3UUzg23d_fxGAc1KGL3GdnP2rWWuJAqKMhNLEvQQ-0pDHVXIAuwr2kVlp1jkhI' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe><br /><br />Only one more week until Genryu season begins... more to come then!</div>
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Klagshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13404953454187858180noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-239384151854115309.post-23524240939915727992018-03-31T22:57:00.000-04:002019-02-10T23:03:01.443-05:00Do you even Tomezuri, Bro?<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
Have you ever had that feeling when you put something off for a long time and then feel overwhelmed with the task of getting it done? That's how I feel about my multi-post series about the John Muir Trail, and since its been slowing the other posts recently, I put that aside and decided to write this one up in the meanwhile... hope you enjoy/</div>
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We're back in September of 2017 again here, and this was another dreamy day surrounding the Tenkara Summit, which continues to "haunt" me for various reasons. There are a few people that I no longer associate with that I saw last at the summit, and it continues to linger on my mind how some people can be so different online than in person... but I digress...<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBRu3ROJVARPkz_DDA3xQmdTJTMl8g24Avt2hr9dqroYvAHplEuhkhk3qByiLmM7cX_6fdiz3SgFPl3qi5TkCQe0uopzpq8MxKMrocbqJBjey_RAFUvdkuF48WUrdq7eQGU_8bvZJ2nsU/s1600/DSC03290.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBRu3ROJVARPkz_DDA3xQmdTJTMl8g24Avt2hr9dqroYvAHplEuhkhk3qByiLmM7cX_6fdiz3SgFPl3qi5TkCQe0uopzpq8MxKMrocbqJBjey_RAFUvdkuF48WUrdq7eQGU_8bvZJ2nsU/s320/DSC03290.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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Join us in Rocky Mountain National Park, one of many places in this country where we have cold, clean tumbling water that seems "designed" for Tenkara fishing. We arrived to a gusty, cold and mostly overcast morning. I had faith in a beautiful day, but I knew we'd need to let the weather do its thing for a while and warm the water up just a bit.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvvAY7eQZ2SVXaiSTNkZIh2SoSbUT6tplD4t34S0XXUvdltYdw6W1wciV1E9q04kZUnwF88-DIY7_bHGoikDYStWhFwVKPcUNXegfSP-cD60cKlMdHbOQmU2qPeHg2BjBTPbu-YvH4qmg/s1600/IMG_0041.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvvAY7eQZ2SVXaiSTNkZIh2SoSbUT6tplD4t34S0XXUvdltYdw6W1wciV1E9q04kZUnwF88-DIY7_bHGoikDYStWhFwVKPcUNXegfSP-cD60cKlMdHbOQmU2qPeHg2BjBTPbu-YvH4qmg/s320/IMG_0041.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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Partially overcast days make for the best fishing, IMHO... its the best mix of enjoyable weather for me, and creates some cover for the fish as well. The first hour was pretty slow and I took some time to practice casting and fall into a rhythm. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGZ4Y-6kQf1PwtqvgYURwSdpapUcuhSluifUPuwdzZwEOC_mZnWk4egOacxwPlLELK4NhFuLPO_-_Uj_sMJrgQSV2-qZfARgrR0ohDfrwSDvgCVNttmNPnNNPOZt6FuMQHVQoowXZuPjs/s1600/DSC03206.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGZ4Y-6kQf1PwtqvgYURwSdpapUcuhSluifUPuwdzZwEOC_mZnWk4egOacxwPlLELK4NhFuLPO_-_Uj_sMJrgQSV2-qZfARgrR0ohDfrwSDvgCVNttmNPnNNPOZt6FuMQHVQoowXZuPjs/s320/DSC03206.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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Soon, however, as the water warmed up and the wind slowed, I got my drifts right and began to catch some fish. Below is JP's (possibly first) Colorado cutty that I photographed for him... I was proud to see him land that first one, and I knew we were in for more all day...<br />
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This particular stream is my official favorite place to fish so far in the Front Range. In order to reach this practically magical fantasy stretch of river, one must hike for a few miles, skipping what is clearly fishy water and fighting one's will to stop and cast. If you can hold out, you reach a place where you must scramble into a steep canyon and cross the river, and that's where cutty heaven begins.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiA357MPEqbMaOGg9Mteb1IK0Oyaepm1tSkjzDBiHqHRSRWmRFsbGl8XNVZ2EI2_npczQnWW15qaGSw2TgxQGrN6jNYsqX8LDkaGIpOS_62scubt2BjXDQiW9g-0CwK_TlvJiqeqWxhDX4/s1600/DSC03242.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiA357MPEqbMaOGg9Mteb1IK0Oyaepm1tSkjzDBiHqHRSRWmRFsbGl8XNVZ2EI2_npczQnWW15qaGSw2TgxQGrN6jNYsqX8LDkaGIpOS_62scubt2BjXDQiW9g-0CwK_TlvJiqeqWxhDX4/s320/DSC03242.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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Soon after, though, one reaches a difficult to navigate rockfall, where I presume, most fishermen never go above. Obviously we had to go above this section, scrambling over boulders, bracing ourselves between rocks and logs, and finally reaching a second canyon wall above.</div>
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Not only was this area extremely picturesque, but it was quite fishy, too. And there was plenty of open space for real Tenkara casting, using longer lines and rods. I watched Mike as he really began to grasp these concepts. Rob gave him some pointers on the river and he was starting to really clean up. I love watching the progress as the ideas and tactics click, as the confidence builds, and as one beings to realize there's actually something behind these methods... a far cry from stabbing around in the dark with a bead-head nymph!<br />
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Below, Mike releases a fish he caught in a beautiful run along the rock wall. There were many spots like this, and we took turns hitting them with wild abandon.<br />
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Up here above a few sets of falls its all cutthroats, as the invasive trout species have either never made it this far up, or simply couldn't survive. I'd guess the former, and I hope it remains that way.<br />
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It was hard to choose the photos to share in this post, I took so many of them, and caught so many fish that it was hard to keep track!</div>
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Streams like this and conditions like this make for perfect practice of the many Tenkara manipulation techniques. I spent a lot of the day playing with "Tomezuri," which involves stopping the fly or holding it in the current in different ways.<br />
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Most of the time we hear about the upstream style of Tenkara, and here's a video of JP landing a nice little cutty fishing that way:<br />
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<iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dx5JYxR3izT1OgEILXcghsnyyaTDQO7jU48BQ8OpR6eDiag-xDu4-9zdDJgr-IhOjTI7MAb5xpZVGT3qjv7pg' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div>
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Full days on the river allow for enjoyment of not only many different ways of presenting a fly, but also different environments in the mountains. I particularly love all the canyon climbing and rock-scrambling... it makes the exploration of the stream more fun, and adds more exercise. It also feels extremely remote to be surrounded by tall rock cliffs, knowing we are isolated from the rest of the park's visitors even if just for a little while.<br />
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There were tons of pockets to pick along the canyon walls, and fish came from many of them...<br />
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After climbing up again, we reached a fine section of stream, and the sun came out in force. I truly felt like we were in a special place... As is dictated by Tenkara culture, we took plenty of time to break, laugh, spend time together - snacking, enjoying some cannabis and opening a few beers. The camaraderie in the wilderness is what this is all about!<br />
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Everyone wants to fish stretches of plunge pools like this. But how many are willing to put the time and work in to find and hike to them? Not many... and that's just how we like it.<br />
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If you take the time and effort to come visit, make the sacrifices necessary to get here... live the Tenkara life for a few days, fish the Tenkara style, enjoy the Tenkara community... we will show you. It is not a secret. But it is a commitment!<br />
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One of my favorite things about native and wild trout is the slight variation in color between the populations. Some rivers here show cutties with more pink-hues. Others show more orange. In different sections of this river I found different hues on the fish. Fascinating. I can't help but to wonder if there are little sub-species that have developed between different blockages or waterfalls...<br />
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.... of which there were plenty! We must have climbed 3 or 4 waterfalls by the end of the day at least.</div>
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Later in the afternoon the clouds moved back in for a bit, but the wind pretty much died, making for a fantastic final few hours on the water.</div>
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Here Rob fishes a nice pool under a waterfall, and then I moved up and grabbed a few casts after he was done.<br />
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I scored one nice fish out of that pool that was worth a photograph...</div>
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Climbing around this one required plenty of work, and I somehow lost my 2 way radio along that route. Hope I find it when I go back this season!</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3PKsSX63jGHW885Ml5kblISoaFiydJb5g4O98hKRyNXgmjn41OoFQvnWhawqrI7D1h2hQJaF3SOUEB4iGEpcN_RMNAm3KCHK3ifO_Xw5ouAw4emFxI2pRciJqVlc_KPVhW_JT88MxKWc/s1600/IMG_0068.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3PKsSX63jGHW885Ml5kblISoaFiydJb5g4O98hKRyNXgmjn41OoFQvnWhawqrI7D1h2hQJaF3SOUEB4iGEpcN_RMNAm3KCHK3ifO_Xw5ouAw4emFxI2pRciJqVlc_KPVhW_JT88MxKWc/s320/IMG_0068.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
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Above these falls was another beautiful flat-ish section of river with a bit more cover, and I began to snag and lose some flies here and there.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_dMQ9SkL5ab59Jwbnklm5IiieULtfs_oVth9to9GwPAEkTXUkVQF6yP8OvMAKnprk4rbbk6LLu6KQ-CyKfnjd9iabOCjUjpD4GsagCBUDUPd61J7O6Q67rnL7RTAnHV54hSgtD-4Xa94/s1600/DSC03258.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_dMQ9SkL5ab59Jwbnklm5IiieULtfs_oVth9to9GwPAEkTXUkVQF6yP8OvMAKnprk4rbbk6LLu6KQ-CyKfnjd9iabOCjUjpD4GsagCBUDUPd61J7O6Q67rnL7RTAnHV54hSgtD-4Xa94/s320/DSC03258.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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Up here there is ZERO evidence of other fishermen. We didn't see any footprints that belonged to humans, no fishing line, no trash/plastic or lost flies. I smelled that musky smell of an animal, and figured a bear or moose was nearby. The bear-bell made an appearance on my pack, and I started making more noise as I moved through the brush.<br />
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The sun came out again, and while I was spooking some fish, there were plenty still willing to come out and play.<br />
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Rob and JP joined me here as I prepared to take a break after netting a few cutties. We each got plenty of time in the lead, and there was tons of water to share. Some pools yielded many fish, breaking the "spooked fish rules" about pools back east.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEU-As6nwc_8FDn-2TbrBNaLeN_0W4YgQnfLM9g0K_NrbA57ba0ffst7qVScFtW7Z5m6Wsr_Myaj1m1rImI9gE3EencHQHLDeXnMYKDmos0ruaWzc73z-LZj8jmSw-4idLUNZf6kIwLLE/s1600/IMG_0078.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEU-As6nwc_8FDn-2TbrBNaLeN_0W4YgQnfLM9g0K_NrbA57ba0ffst7qVScFtW7Z5m6Wsr_Myaj1m1rImI9gE3EencHQHLDeXnMYKDmos0ruaWzc73z-LZj8jmSw-4idLUNZf6kIwLLE/s320/IMG_0078.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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Taking turns is important. Its almost as much fun to watch your friends catch fish as it is to catch them yourself. If you walk ahead and spook the stream for them, you're a jerk... so if you don't want to be patient, walk at least 10 yards or more from the river when walking around so you don't ruin your friend's water. People have no idea how many fish they spook most of the time... that's major! Don't be that guy who gets impatient and walks ahead spooking the fish for everyone else.<br />
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Because of the full sun, we did have to make an effort to avoid casting shadows or making our presence known. Most Tenkara anglers know to move carefully and deliberately on the stream as to not ruin our chances at the fish. This is where it becomes obvious when you get a western angler in the group who isn't used to getting very close to the fish they want to catch.<br />
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Never forget that the sport of fishing requires elements of stalking and a good self-awareness. If you stomp around, create too much vibration, cast shadows on the water or slap your line around, you are going to catch less fish, even if they are wildly hungry.<br />
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As the evening approached and the sun dipped, we fought with the reality that it was just about time to turn back, since we had a good bit of hiking left to get back to the car...<br />
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JP caught one more and, although there were clearly still miles of fishable water to go, we accepted the fact that the sun would in fact go down, and began to re-trace our steps through the canyon.<br />
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The walk back was pretty intense, although with the water being low at the end of the season, it made for easy navigation of the river itself. That probably saved us a good 15-20 minutes right there.</div>
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Descending the boulder fields was another story, however, and while it was tedious and tiring, I enjoyed it quite a bit. Needless to say we took our sweet time.</div>
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On the way back we came across some bear scat, presumably from the bear I thought I had smelled earlier in the day. It was relatively fresh and so we crashed through the brush making as much noise as we could until we got away from the area.</div>
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Once out of the canyon and back on the trail, the going was easy and we made good time.</div>
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The walk along this trail has been a favorite place of mine to hike since the first time I visited the area back in 2013. It'll always have a special place in my heart and I think about it during the cold winter months and during melt-out alike, dreaming of the days I can return and wet my line here once more.<br />
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Leaving the park we got stuck in Elk tourism traffic... it blows my mind how people are so ridiculous and inconsiderate that they can't pull over to stop before running out of the car to take pictures. I have mixed feelings about this, being that its good for people to be in nature... yet terrible the way they act once there. Secretly I always hope to watch an ornery Elk charge the crowd and send them running scared, but I just grit my teeth. lay on the horn, and continue on instead.</div>
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Mid September is an epic time in the Rockies, with the Aspens glowing yellow, contrasted so perfectly by the dark green evergreens and a deep blue sky... its the bittersweet reward for the end of the headwaters season, fast approaching when these colors appear.</div>
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Back in town we grabbed some pizza, saw some more Elk at the laundromat/supermarket, grabbed some extra snacks and retreated to the cabin to watch Discover Tenkara videos and tie flies.<br />
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The Tenkara life is amazing. Do you even Tomezuri, Bro? ;)</div>
Klagshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13404953454187858180noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-239384151854115309.post-63980090797007258742018-01-04T15:06:00.004-05:002018-01-04T15:06:59.982-05:00North American Genryu #4 - Fall Tenkara Adventures in the Rocky Mountain Front Range <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
The days surrounding the Tenkara USA Summit in 2017 were definitely some of the best Tenkara days I've ever had, and I am really excited to re-live them as I tell the stories for you here. It all starts with the assembly of an east coast crew (but this time out west) and a blue line on a map...</div>
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I had chosen an ideal stream for us to hit in the front range - Rob and I had fished the lower section a few days before, scouting a bit farther up and figuring it would be perfect for the group. We left reasonably early on a picture-perfect Colorado Fall morning and headed up the trail.</div>
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The river is a very typical mountain headwater, and while I wished we were backpacking and making camp in the wilderness, we were just making a full day trip up the river instead, while renting a cabin on a different (heavily stocked/boring) section of a different river nearby.</div>
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The first fish of the day for me was, ideally, a beautiful little wild cutthroat. I love these trout. Certain streams seem to have populations with really beautiful pink tones, and those so far have been my favorite.</div>
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Fishing streams like this is all about reading the water and breaking down the sections into different zones. Working your way through the different zones can be a lot of fun for target practice - as well as for figuring out how to adjust your techniques to achieve the right drift, or to execute the perfect manipulation across varying micro-current conditions.</div>
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When you get bored of catching fish there are plenty of things to look at...</div>
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...and then when you get bored of just looking at beautiful things around you, its time to go back to fishing again.</div>
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Working my way up, I got separated from the group. I thought somehow, after taking a break, that they were ahead of me, but it turns out I was ahead most of the time. After fishing a while on my own and realizing that the other guys must still be behind me given that I was moving fast, I figured I'd just stop and eat lunch in a visible spot where they'd find me.</div>
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I finished lunch, fished a dreamy plunge pool, caught about 5 brookies in the 12-14" range, then took a water break. That's when Chris Zimmer caught up with me and fished the other side of the plunges I had fished on the way up. He landed a few nice ones, and then somehow one of us stepped on a bee hive. All of a sudden they were everywhere... we ran. I have no idea how we got away with no stings. They didn't get us - win!</div>
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A moment later the other guys caught up and we took our turns working pool after pool and pocket after pocket...</div>
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Plenty of fish were landed by all, and they were all beautiful.</div>
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The wilderness out here is soothing for the soul, and somehow inspired me with a renewed focus for working specific Tenkara techniques. A bit of Tomezuri here, some Ashtapa-zuri there... and the fish were just really keyed in on feeding for a few hours too.</div>
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2017 was a year of learning and directly applying more tenkara techniques that I have learned along the way in areas that held good fish populations. That's a great recipe for self-taught learning. Starting with some existing knowledge, attempting to master it, and then connecting the dots along the way... But without the pre-existing knowledge we get from books and older/wiser Tenkara anglers in Japan, we would just end up fumbling around in the dark and catching fish, not fishing Tenkara. </div>
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I discovered some legendary locations to return to on this particular day.</div>
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For example, this large plunge pool, below topped them all for me. Its hard to see the underwater topography but it was absolutely wild, and really difficult to describe with words. It was deep, and had all sorts of complex under-currents. It was a challenging spot to fish correctly but I managed a few really colorful ones here. It was a slice of heaven on earth, so to speak.</div>
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JP was killing it on this trip, and despite the altitude, he wasn't having issues at all. Goes to show some people just do better than others when it comes to adapting to changing altitudes. I am not great at that, and it usually takes me longer than most to adjust.</div>
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Another great part of the day was discovering this earth-star, only the 3rd one I've ever come across in the wild. They are interesting mushrooms for sure.</div>
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I particularly love discovering cave-pools and overhangs, because the trout the lie there tend to be darker and show unique colors.</div>
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This season I also spent a lot of time fishing rods around 3.2 meters as I found it helped with the overhang in the high mountain streams of this wetter and more forested part of the Colorado Rockies. </div>
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It was a prime time of the year for mushrooms, and there were plenty to be seen along the way. These looked like some kind of false morel. Not to be eaten if that's what they were.</div>
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However, scrambling up and out of the river towards the end of the day, we found these - which appeared to be Matsutake mushrooms. It was prime time for them, but this patch was a bit old.</div>
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We had really milked the day for everything we could get out of it, and finally it was time to turn and head home towards the trailhead.</div>
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Back at the cabin we reminisced about the day over some good beer, a rather large portion of 80/20 ground beef burgers and some Discover Tenkara videos. It was great to hang with friends and live the life of Tenkara for a day.<br />
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Klagshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13404953454187858180noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-239384151854115309.post-4670200218382026262017-12-25T00:07:00.001-05:002017-12-25T00:07:09.335-05:00Hiking the John Muir Trail - An Adventure of Unimaginable Proportions Part 2 (Tuolomne Meadows to Red's Meadow)<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjW9svC2OqGwNgVb9dZCYTO5nRTHgThfKGrNuLTE8P-tOUmvVR4E4-z22PMNqTraAvHDMDPfY2eIf_XfRcmB-A15euCcN6MCbogpgfgEufEqpctDpl12-Wu74e6s5C5Ow9Md76iDlUgI0w/s1600/IMG_9120.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="368" data-original-width="1600" height="73" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjW9svC2OqGwNgVb9dZCYTO5nRTHgThfKGrNuLTE8P-tOUmvVR4E4-z22PMNqTraAvHDMDPfY2eIf_XfRcmB-A15euCcN6MCbogpgfgEufEqpctDpl12-Wu74e6s5C5Ow9Md76iDlUgI0w/s320/IMG_9120.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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After our first taste of the trail in Yosemite, we headed East and then a few hundred miles South, to leave the car in Lone Pine, CA - the town at the base of the Whitney Portal trailhead access road. </div>
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We grabbed a motel, which was insanely overpriced for this kind of town, and began to double-check our supplies. This was the real start for us, even though we had just spent 3 days on the trail... we would be going in for at least 20 days, so there could be no screw-ups on packing for this one!</div>
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My pack weighed in at about 35lbs with water and a full bear barrel... not bad! It didn't feel amazing but it was a huge improvement over the heavier weights many other hikers were carrying. Throughout the trip I saw the majority of hikers carrying between 45 and 60 lbs, and that has got to hurt!</div>
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We grabbed the most expensive taxi of our lives to get us to the YARTS public transportation in Mammoth, which would eventually take us back through Yosemite - dropping us at our starting location for our permits... Tuolomne Meadows. We drove by a fresh wildfire that had started the night before, and which now threatened our hike since it was on the opposite side of Lyell Canyon. I figured we'd try to move fast and get well ahead of it before it spread. Heading off from Tuolomne Meadows, we hiked along a beautiful river for most of the day, and then began to ascend Lyell Canyon towards Donohue Pass.</div>
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I stopped often to fish for the thousands of small brook trout inhabiting this section of river. Did you know that the Western Sierra had no trout naturally until we introduced them? I want to read more about that because I don't know if the waters were actually barren, or if there used to be a healthy salmon population here before development and population growth wiped them out? Some additional research will surely be necessary for me on that.</div>
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The terrain got steep as we began to climb the Canyon, and it is somewhere before this point that I lost Rob for the first time... and it surely wouldn't be the last. For some reason he was moving really fast, hadn't taken his usual breaks to fish, and maybe hand't even stopped for lunch. There was no other way to explain the fact that I hadn't caught up to him yet.</div>
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We had planned to meet up near a specific campsite, but when I got there, he was nowhere to be seen. I asked around in the campsites closer to the trail if anyone had seen him, but nobody had any info for me. I figured he was still ahead and had decided to make it to the last campground before the pass, so I pushed on.</div>
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Arriving at a beautiful bowl of mountains with a placid lake at their base, I still had not seen Rob. At this point it was too late for me to want to keep hiking, and it appeared we were about to have the first big water crossing of the trail. I knew from my experience was that crossing in the evening is rougher because the water that melted from the hottest part of the day would bring water levels up into the evening. The best time to cross is early in the morning when the colder night-time temps have re-frozen the snow, and slowed the melt-out. </div>
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I set up my tent as two older gentlemen that I guessed were in their 70's showed up. We chatted for a bit and they too decided to wait out the crossing until the AM. Lights out! I left the door of my tent open as usual, and fell asleep looking out into the beautiful stars-scape above.</div>
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The weather was beautiful in the morning, and the excitement of what was to come was in the forefront of my mind. I figured Rob would likely be waiting ahead so I ate a quick breakfast and began to pack up. I started asking hikers at the crossing if they had seen him, and finally one group burst into laughter and said they knew exactly who I was talking about... </div>
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They said they had heard him complaining about how I was so far behind and was moving too slow and never made it to camp or something like that... he was worried. They were super-entertained that I was now a few miles ahead of him. I was relieved to know where he was and decided to fish the outflow of the lake while I waited for him to arrive. </div>
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Soon after that, Rob appeared seemingly out of nowhere with a group of some girls he had camped near, and I started to laugh about the situation. The other guys who had overheard him were also laughing, and they headed out ahead of us. Little did I know this would become a bit of a pattern for the hike. </div>
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Everyone was in good spirits and I had already had some fun interactions with strangers on the trail. What a good start. We all crossed as a group, heading up towards the pass. Our new friends were a great addition to the experience, and we set out in good spirits, even if a few of us were still adjusting to our packs and our respective levels of energy.</div>
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Donohue Pass was covered in snow, but it wasn't a bad hike at all. This was my first view of the sun-cups that form up high during melt-out, and I'd soon learn that these were quite small in comparison to others I'd see later on. Hikers coming through just a week or two before us had to walk on those sun-cups the whole time for miles on either side of the pass. Our timing was great. We mostly scaled straight up in existing footprints in the snow, and I used my micro-spikes for the first time on the trail. Glad I had brought them!</div>
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The pass was beautiful, but we pushed on quickly to cover more ground. </div>
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Descending the North side of the pass, we entered into what can only be described as some sort of high-altitude fairy-land... the snow had only just melted, but the sun was already hot enough to dry the ground in some places. Water was running in all the channels available to it, creating a seemingly endless world of mini-islands, dotted with waist-high evergreens and rocks. The sound of gently bubbling streams surrounded us. And then the mosquitos emerged...</div>
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Most of the day was spent descending through that beautiful terrain, and then back up and over Island Pass. My long pants and bug-proof hoody were doing a great job keeping me safe from the flying critters. I don't know why everyone doesn't adhere to that kind of outfit knowing what they are going to encounter... </div>
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After descending Island Pass we arrived at Thousand Island Lake, where we had planned to camp for the evening. This was my first experience with a really crowded campground at high altitude - we shared a rather small flat area with our new friends Suzy, Amber and Rachel, and had a blast that evening soaking in the views and chatting each other up. </div>
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I had not expected to be having such a great time with the trail culture. I knew I was interested in not doing my hike solo... my goal was not to immerse myself in the wilderness, alone, or I surely wouldn't have chosen this trail. However, I didn't realize just how great the on-trail culture would be, and I had under-estimated how much that would add to the experience. I was feeling really happy as the worries of mainstream societal living faded and were replaced by simple stresses like where to eat or when to eat, and the physical challenges associated with covering long miles and constantly changing altitude. I was also excited to be spending time with new people that had shared interests out in the wilderness.</div>
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At the same time, I got my first ache which was a sore lower leg. I immediately got really scared about shin splints, and had my first major doubts of the hike. I knew I wouldn't give up mentally, but I was definitely concerned that my body would not be able to handle the increased mileage and constant strain of the pack. I did my best to massage my muscles, take breaks, and not move too fast. It worked and the pains faded the next day, as did my fears.</div>
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At this point we had to diverge from the JMT onto the PCT. Our permits were for the PCT here, and we had hoped to log 500 miles when we had originally scored the permits. However, with the fires delaying our start, and with the need to get back to CO for an event, we didn't know how far we'd make it in the time allotted. We said goodbye to our new friends and then headed off on the PCT, which parallels the JMT for around 13 miles. Basically we'd be diverging for one day, then re-joining the JMT near our first resupply at Red's Meadow campground.</div>
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That section of PCT was really beautiful, as well as challenging in unexpected ways for me. We had a long and gradual hike up along a ridge, and the snow had clearly melted much faster on this particular side than on the JMT side of the valley. It felt dry and barren in some sections, but lush and green in others.</div>
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There were fingers of flowing water entering a meadow that coated select portions of the mountainside we were hiking along, and because of all the water, the meadow appeared to be exploding with wildflowers all over the place.</div>
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Between the sections of wildflowers were sections of newly-dry earth with sun-cracked patterns in the dirt. Growing among these sections were smaller flowers that created a purple hue all around.</div>
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It was one of the most memorable mornings for me, and I enjoyed walking along this side of the mountain while looking over to the other side, where the JMT and our friends were hiking parallel to us. I could tell from the raging waterfalls that they'd be doing more difficult water crossings than we had done on this section. We also had better weather, as the thunder-showers mostly stuck to their side of the valley during the day. Lucky for us!</div>
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As the afternoon sun hit, we began to descend, and we were in a hotter and drier terrain than we had seen in Yosemite. We had entered the Ansel Adams wilderness earlier, and we could tell there were significant differences between it and Yosemite.</div>
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At this point, the thundershowers began to spread, and threatened our side of the valley. I began to move really fast off the ridge and welcomed the continued descent into more protected and forested land below.</div>
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As I entered a new kind of forest for me on the trail so far, it began to rain. I sheltered under some trees and took a much needed snack break. The evergreen trees do a great job of shielding you from the rain, and I knew I could rely on any bunch of trees to get the job done. If needed, I could always use my trekking umbrella, but the rain usually only lasted a few moments at a time... rarely enough to need it.</div>
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That night Rob and I camped away from other people and in a nice rustic spot near a river. It was a really solid site and I felt good knowing that the following day we'd be arriving at Red's meadow for a real meal and a resupply of 7 more days of food. I slept well and got a full night's sleep that evening.</div>
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In the morning we took our time, did some fishing, and then headed out. Rob wanted to go straight on to Red's meadow but I wanted to go visit the Devil's Postpile National monument. I took a nice 3 mile detour that was longer than it needed to be to check it out, and grabbed a few photos.</div>
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The monument was crowded, ad this was my first time in a few days seeing that many people in one place, so I didn't linger too long. People smelled different to me now... I could smell their perfumes, their sunblock or their lip gloss down the trail before I could even see them. I knew who was there to mosey around for a day and who was there to really hike just by my nose alone.</div>
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The crazy formations were created by gas being emitted in a unique pattern during a lava-cooling event, ages ago. Nature is really cool sometimes, and this was one of those moments where that hit me really hard. After taking in the monument I pushed into a fast paced half-jog, half-walk to get to Red's meadow to make sure I'd get a hot meal and a shower.</div>
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Those last few miles went fast - they showcased the power of the record melt-out of 2017 with a display of chaotic debris scattered about, and clear evidence of erosion all over the forest.</div>
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Water had filled every crevice, every low point, knocking down trees and loosening the soil. The ground was still wet and loose from this recent occurrence, but not muddy. It felt almost like walking through a disaster zone... it actually WAS a natural disaster zone all around. And to realize it can be like this every major snow year is just incredible...</div>
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Soon I was at the junction with Red's Meadow and I couldn't have been happier.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglyDcZB6SYRUDiH8Qc53xctpIMczWXXR-aGwFRRfDPrhKPti9Awk6kEMsHQJMeM1JkXoI2VnLiTz_EKaZsnijjVxr0as3TER00sCRad8x229tQv8dR2w6evtf3ru7N0YbIZvmLuttkP7c/s1600/IMG_9176.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglyDcZB6SYRUDiH8Qc53xctpIMczWXXR-aGwFRRfDPrhKPti9Awk6kEMsHQJMeM1JkXoI2VnLiTz_EKaZsnijjVxr0as3TER00sCRad8x229tQv8dR2w6evtf3ru7N0YbIZvmLuttkP7c/s320/IMG_9176.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
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Once there I reunited with Rob and our new friends, ate an incredible-tasting yet simple grilled cheese with bacon and tomato, a chocolate shake, and took a shower. Laundry was a social experience, and I laughed as Rob put his clothes right into the dryer instead of the washer, realizing later what had happened. Good times were had by all. Some weather moved in and many of us set up camp nearby.</div>
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Rob had decided he wanted to push ahead to meet up with one of the friends he had made on the trail. I made some new friends at the campground, and had a great time getting to know them that evening.</div>
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The next day at breakfast I ran into the same group from the Yosemite Backpacker's campground that I mentioned in the last post... the group I had gone fishing with. They had been moving really slowly, and I was secretly really happy to have caught up with them. It felt sort of like running into old friends. I heard that they were heading out later on, and I took my time leaving, figuring they'd likely catch up. With a heavier pack, newly filled with more than 7 days of food, I set off at a snail's pace into the unknown...</div>
Klagshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13404953454187858180noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-239384151854115309.post-61554951525656436412017-11-17T12:15:00.002-05:002017-12-25T00:07:39.168-05:00Hiking the John Muir Trail - An Adventure of Unimaginable Proportions Part 1 (Tuolomne Meadows to Happy Isles)<div style="text-align: center;">
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It feels good to finally get settled out here in Colorado, starting a new chapter and chasing some dreams I've wanted to chase for a long time. Sharing more of the summer's adventures has been long overdue, and so why not jump in head first now with 240-ish miles of Backpacking and Tenkara along the John Muir Trail? This one is going to take a few posts, so here goes...</div>
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This part of the summer's adventures began in Yosemite - an iconic, over-crowded wonder of nature that draws tons of people who may or may not be able to comprehend or take advantage of what they are experiencing while there. Rob and I arrived during a massive wildfire that had, just 2 days before, coated the entire valley in smoke and created a heck of a lot of confusion about how we were going to begin our hike as planned. This ended up being helpful in the end, as we were able to do some things we may not have been able to do otherwise.</div>
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You see, the John Muir Trail requires permits, since it is just about the most scenic through-hike in the USA - depending on who you ask. We had not secured JMT permits, but we had secured PCT 500 mile permits for the Pacific Crest Trail, and we planned to hike the overlapping sections of PCT and JMT, and possibly beyond, if our schedule allowed. Given that this raging fire nearby had scared the majority of tourists away, we waltzed right in, and scored one of the most in-demand permits in the park, to hike the northbound JMT between Tuolomne Meadows and Happy Isles; which would take 3 days - before starting our PCT 500 southbound back at Tuolomne meadows, and going straight on to the Southern High Sierra from there.</div>
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We spent a night in a car-camping site, and then set off the next day from Tuolomne Meadows, heading northbound on the JMT... which was, confusingly, actually taking us due South. Go figure. It was a monumentally exciting moment for me. I somehow felt that almost everything in my life had been leading up to this very moment... and all along while making these plans, I had presumed we wouldn't be able to get these permits, that the snow and melt out would keep us out, that a fire would get in our way... yet here we were!</div>
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Almost immediately we were hiking through easily-recognizable features that were decidedly "Yosemite" in appearance. It was hard to believe that the moment had arrived. I felt overwhelmed... excited that things had gone as planned, excited about what lay ahead... but also apprehensive. I wondered to myself, would I be able to complete the trail? Do I have what it takes? Does a lifetime of backpacking short trips add up to the skill required to pull this off? Did I train hard enough and prepare well enough to finish the John Muir Trail and more?</div>
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Soon those thoughts faded though, and I was focused on the scenery, my breathing, the mosquitos, and wondering where we would get a chance to catch our first trout on the trail.</div>
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Did I mention it was hot? California is HOT. They always say "oh, its just dry heat, its not even that hot." THAT IS A LIE. Speaking of which, I cannot tell you how many things I heard about California that ended up being lies. Let's start with the "golden hills" thing... what... you mean the burned and dead brown hills? Sure. Don't get me wrong, I love California. But I think everyone has sold California as a bit of a lie to everyone else, just to get them to go there. No different today really, is it? California would benefit from just a little less heat, of that I am sure.</div>
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Which brings me to the next important joyful moment for me... A huge shadow had been cast over this hike for me by the knowledge that we were embarking on the JMT during the snowiest hiking year on record. 2 weeks before we began our trip, two women had died in water crossings. Others had died before that. One guy fell of Mt Whitney. It was kind of overwhelming. I didn't share any of this with my mother... </div>
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It was shaping up to be a deadly and challenging year along the PCT and JMT - reports of crazy-high water levels that made water crossings dangerous, icy/slippery snow-fields for miles on and below all of the major passes; and that wasn't counting the fires, which could still become a problem at any time. The joyful moment came when I realized that we were not surrounded by feet of snow, and that we might just end up pulling this thing off...</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLeG-AjqZKlQnrWkEw4F_eKN7TQe2_cLzZCwB4ns7CD0ZdX7sCDwgKeCwum32ZNE_ENx4GYIdtlyTqX5ZDgqG74OR6dXPIGimrXmJltzyIR6ZE6S3FSFkrPYiy44cLFp-F8Ojtw4tA6NQ/s1600/DSC01883.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLeG-AjqZKlQnrWkEw4F_eKN7TQe2_cLzZCwB4ns7CD0ZdX7sCDwgKeCwum32ZNE_ENx4GYIdtlyTqX5ZDgqG74OR6dXPIGimrXmJltzyIR6ZE6S3FSFkrPYiy44cLFp-F8Ojtw4tA6NQ/s320/DSC01883.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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As we hiked towards our first pass, Cathedral Pass, we hit some pretty serious mosquitos and got our first taste of what was to come. Luckily I had worn my bug-stopper hoody and treated the rest of my clothes with Permethrin. This, along with a bug head-net essentially gave me full-body armor and I was not having a bad time with bugs whatsoever. Score!</div>
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As we hiked, the views just got better and better. I took too many photos, but it was also always good to have an excuse to stop and take a deep breath.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWuIP74Pb4iSGBTLXBVyruIt8NH_XkaJkLUkoEd_kaAoRQBHIjkM8s3i8Sduoe9Bd4pn8jG4Aw9tU42mUbIrDTnfrgyXVczLu11pSh4t9nwc7Lr8k-1lAnaWFonB5BH0qIC-90dhdaNDc/s1600/DSC01892.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWuIP74Pb4iSGBTLXBVyruIt8NH_XkaJkLUkoEd_kaAoRQBHIjkM8s3i8Sduoe9Bd4pn8jG4Aw9tU42mUbIrDTnfrgyXVczLu11pSh4t9nwc7Lr8k-1lAnaWFonB5BH0qIC-90dhdaNDc/s320/DSC01892.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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We soon discovered that the meadows held the worst mosquitos, and the whole area had just melted out... meaning they were hatching in full force. We encountered a group of college-age girls who were running at top speed; jumping, hollering, hooting and making a racket, they raced past us screaming about mosquitos and slapping their exposed skin repeatedly. Rob and I laughed, picking up the pace and hoping we wouldn't be hit as hard. </div>
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Taking a cue from the girls, and a tip from another hiker, we made plans to camp up higher near the pass itself, hopefully giving us some shelter from the swarms of hungry mosquitos. This tactic ended up working mostly as intended, and we set up camp without nearly as many bugs around as we had hiked through down below.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRDKmiVx08Um5nJmmQdCiytB1E7GhrpCVi5YoZ76uFWY0JhRpx10m8JpTjpEMgwOBt_DhBZZrDR-lBk6R-xCIU3stUevQ0c-CqEBf9cqgKFYMudmAHdG73EFycckwCfplFewllz1_s9N0/s1600/DSC01903.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRDKmiVx08Um5nJmmQdCiytB1E7GhrpCVi5YoZ76uFWY0JhRpx10m8JpTjpEMgwOBt_DhBZZrDR-lBk6R-xCIU3stUevQ0c-CqEBf9cqgKFYMudmAHdG73EFycckwCfplFewllz1_s9N0/s320/DSC01903.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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Another astonishing thing for me was the variety and overall quantity of beautiful flowers in every shape, size and color. The melting snow had created a booming year for all sources of life, but especially for the flowers.</div>
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After setting up camp, it was time to go enjoy the views. Behind the ridge we were camped on was one of the most epic sunset views I had ever encountered, so we soaked in the experience as thoroughly as possible.</div>
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As I looked out into the mountains, I felt conflicting feelings of calm and chaos... on one side, there was the excitement of the adventure at hand. On the other, there was the gravity of the task at hand. I decided not to worry on this trip, and take it as it came... which was not an attitude that had really worked for me back in city life. That ended up being a good thing.</div>
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The light in these mountains is almost beyond words, and certainly beyond my amateur abilities as a hobby photographer with a less-than stellar camera to capture perfectly. I began to understand why Ansel Adams had chosen this mountain range as the subject of much of his life's work. It truly was magnificent.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgC04PNrKFX2Xu4KfCfdOD1pueXEbnlCcYnsItDE7QtjhT6btA3Mf2untsjZelwG8ih_X2HFGXUwLCkFfJANq32jIa6xSliyj1qrmgISzfnj_uC8rrIKvwKfUnqQMEEQ84XTOgSDv7I-7Q/s1600/DSC01930.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgC04PNrKFX2Xu4KfCfdOD1pueXEbnlCcYnsItDE7QtjhT6btA3Mf2untsjZelwG8ih_X2HFGXUwLCkFfJANq32jIa6xSliyj1qrmgISzfnj_uC8rrIKvwKfUnqQMEEQ84XTOgSDv7I-7Q/s320/DSC01930.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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I slept reasonably well on that first night, and woke up to a beautiful morning, albeit full of mosquitos and a totally botched breakfast. But I soon recovered from the mediocre beginning of my day, and the surroundings re-set my mood in no time at all.</div>
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Again on day 2, I spent way too much time taking photos of flowers and other beautiful things I never wanted to forget.</div>
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Some of the most unique and picturesque terrain was probably the burn areas left over from the infamous "Rim Fire" from just a few years back. A decent amount of the park burned, leaving fields of tall, blackened trees, which in turn created a severe lack of shade in the hot summer sun.</div>
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I reminded myself again that the hot summer sun was going to melt the snow, and therefore I should try not to be too mad at the heat. I also knew that this was a notoriously hot section of trail... and just the fact that we weren't hiking through clouds of smoke from the nearby forest fire kept me from being too bothered by anything negative at all.</div>
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I found it difficult to photograph the flowers and the burned trees... which was disappointing because it made for some beautiful scenery. The scale of the trees being so large, while the flowers were so small definitely didn't make it easy.</div>
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Somehow though, this burned section was immediately one of my favorite sections of the hike so far. It just left me with a kind of feeling that is hard to describe - one that had a long-lasting and memorable impact.</div>
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After descending a few more miles, we arrived at the Merced River and the backpacker's campsite. We set up camp and I went fishing, where I met a group of people, a couple of whom had just bought some cheap "tenkara rods" online. I spent some time teaching them how to use the rods, and we all caught some fish. While I was off fishing, Rob watched a rattle snake try to get into my tent, and he scared it off by tossing pebbles at it. The Japanese couple camped near us were rather intrigued by this apparently, and I wish that I had been there to see it all go down. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfQavCD164mEoeDmQOTe_S-y51I57nAHP_Jmq_N-B719VPJyn4DfT7OsmU1aYGP5HIX5Eu7APPg5DoqzgTbhTiuV5YjAkfDMoQu7ebihJjl7bGf2a66sMZ3KLS1JJuxtl-1RvqkInxO1g/s1600/DSC01971.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfQavCD164mEoeDmQOTe_S-y51I57nAHP_Jmq_N-B719VPJyn4DfT7OsmU1aYGP5HIX5Eu7APPg5DoqzgTbhTiuV5YjAkfDMoQu7ebihJjl7bGf2a66sMZ3KLS1JJuxtl-1RvqkInxO1g/s320/DSC01971.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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The next morning I said goodbye to my new friends, hoping that we'd meet up again along the trail when Rob and I looped back around to start hiking again from Tuolomne Meadows, heading Southbound. We set off towards Happy Isles, knowing we needed to arrive well before the only shuttle bus that could take us back to the car at the trailhead.</div>
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We hiked across and along Nevada falls, looking back at views of Half Dome and other features I don't know the names of. The waterfall was absolutely raging and the sound carried for miles. I'll never forget this view looking back at the falls from farther down the trail. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTMjZWCy0mTefT8xNEZyRoQ2akJOUFVhIj-YfT1rOMLFLbhTFJM2lG4Tz6VjRvOZ6bPDfUfOAEgMsB5gFEverqZmTC9tGvPtoe9TfD6Lpn5jatvxzTm278OVzJtyfJgt2euasoyMGrNk8/s1600/DSC01991.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTMjZWCy0mTefT8xNEZyRoQ2akJOUFVhIj-YfT1rOMLFLbhTFJM2lG4Tz6VjRvOZ6bPDfUfOAEgMsB5gFEverqZmTC9tGvPtoe9TfD6Lpn5jatvxzTm278OVzJtyfJgt2euasoyMGrNk8/s320/DSC01991.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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Another mile or so down the trail we hit the crowds, which felt strange after being on the trail for a few days. Hundreds of tourists were marching along paved "paths" towards the base of Nevada Falls... but most of them would never make it. I reflected on the complainers and whiners, the people in flip-flops or jeans toting over-stuffed purses and clutching cameras in the mid-day sun. I quickened my pace, slamming my hiking poles on the concrete to make noise and hoping that people would move out of the way for the hikers who were actually in good enough shape to cover more than a quarter of a mile before giving up.</div>
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Soon we arrived at the Happy Isles Bridge, knowing we had completed the first section of our through hike. We ate too much food in Yosemite Valley, and then made the shuttle with time to spare. There were also no problems with grabbing our food and other stuff that we had left in the bear-boxes near the car, so we drove off to find a campsite for the night. Luck was on our side for now, and we ended up finding one of the most picturesque car-camping sites of the trip - which, coincidentally, had just opened for the season that very morning. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKE7MDbYUatqmsN8EB1XZgBID258V6w6BBJBFzmPRfuwGr_unSlu5RU8D5Gza-3-h6EcdUJYQVgj9_tUcV-00g0p58v18xjrt4-T3clh-KEbqVv_yY4SdkJeGAxy_jlz8l7evaKzuShKo/s1600/DSC02010.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKE7MDbYUatqmsN8EB1XZgBID258V6w6BBJBFzmPRfuwGr_unSlu5RU8D5Gza-3-h6EcdUJYQVgj9_tUcV-00g0p58v18xjrt4-T3clh-KEbqVv_yY4SdkJeGAxy_jlz8l7evaKzuShKo/s320/DSC02010.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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I slept really well that night, feeling accomplished and excited about what was to come in the following weeks on the trail... more on that soon!</div>
Klagshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13404953454187858180noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-239384151854115309.post-68802536840650535622017-10-09T01:06:00.000-04:002017-10-09T01:06:01.129-04:00Enjoying Fall Colors Back in the Adirondacks<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
After having been back in society for a couple of weeks, I already felt the need to get out to the mountains for some forest bathing and general relaxation for the holiday weekend. The fall colors were in full swing, and I had been disappointed in cutting my time short in the Adirondacks earlier in the season... so naturally I packed up some gear and hit the road, heading for the ADK High Peaks.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYBwX4qCGtnM3qsorGbQvm4szOBEmKNlyFxSlPaEUZvbBHVPp9F5RNrGW9xKaJe8YUGTwn_XAKgItl42rS06Be23EoaJiJnfhgKCeBb6SJMfiY7nQx3TCb2CLPTIWQDP0cIE4bvlQI6rM/s1600/DSC03373.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYBwX4qCGtnM3qsorGbQvm4szOBEmKNlyFxSlPaEUZvbBHVPp9F5RNrGW9xKaJe8YUGTwn_XAKgItl42rS06Be23EoaJiJnfhgKCeBb6SJMfiY7nQx3TCb2CLPTIWQDP0cIE4bvlQI6rM/s320/DSC03373.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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When I arrived in the area the weather was beautiful. I grabbed a campsite at Wilmington Notch, and hit the West Branch of the Ausable for a few hours. It was mostly not the best fishing for the fall that afternoon, but I managed to bring a few small browns to hand picking pockets as I usually do there. The water was low and not that cold. And it had just been a full moon. </div>
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The next morning it felt really good to wake up in my tent... but unfortunately the rain was back. How ironic. I checked the weather and noticed it had turned for the worse. The plans for backpacking the high peaks and getting up to any Summits was no longer viable... what a surprise... so I shifted gears and grabbed my day pack, heading for a small stream that I have barely had a chance to fish in the past.</div>
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Hiking in I was surprised at the lack of moisture other than the fresh rain on the surfaces surrounding me. It was very dry... barely any fall mushrooms to be found and low water levels everywhere. Not typical here, yet unfortunately the reality of the last couple seasons at this time of the year. But the leaves... well they were simply on fire. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQSrXF0VxqZbXQblmdeHqLUnlm3WOSKgxC20-MHdQn55m_425uztVOmicgo_3um6Msq_7U7A7qaxCR4ogWsohj5VDE7uhMl6gEfOcYDfN8nhX0rAZsefAVbiK2F1K4SE-mmZhHKarFO14/s1600/DSC03404.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1067" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQSrXF0VxqZbXQblmdeHqLUnlm3WOSKgxC20-MHdQn55m_425uztVOmicgo_3um6Msq_7U7A7qaxCR4ogWsohj5VDE7uhMl6gEfOcYDfN8nhX0rAZsefAVbiK2F1K4SE-mmZhHKarFO14/s320/DSC03404.JPG" width="213" /></a><br /><br />I really like this particular trail and section of the high peaks... its an area I didn't explore much as a kid. However, I have spent a fair amount of time here in the last few seasons. I was especially looking forward to checking out a section of stream that I have hiked by many times without having had a chance to fish it before.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEil67aqdzCwBDUZ7zAbvlWZbli8k7EYV3zetq0ofzN7UZfUMdHKg8oEmjPMqrF61u0ZwIQsGjA7o57w5CYZvW03pMAabc8Xastu7saIWPRi8Fo91GY-5xhmgupZ4G1EURYWQxJxhytlHLo/s1600/DSC03408.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEil67aqdzCwBDUZ7zAbvlWZbli8k7EYV3zetq0ofzN7UZfUMdHKg8oEmjPMqrF61u0ZwIQsGjA7o57w5CYZvW03pMAabc8Xastu7saIWPRi8Fo91GY-5xhmgupZ4G1EURYWQxJxhytlHLo/s320/DSC03408.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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The short hike didn't disappoint, and I was lucky in the sense that the rain had temporarily stopped just as I had arrived at the trailhead. Fall is my favorite season of the year, and it can be truly unmatched up in this part of the Northeast.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqUZjNpLetI8NSZGj5eyGqxTASQJIQR84WiSHKeWNUh0BhD6ANdt76OrZQpYCsnbMlkZcmOtqUdvWnvVwwwVHtmoPgcGWtyn86Bu6ZCiuDF7bmxghHlGNndWXF68zEXzge8fyw-L4O1iM/s1600/DSC03411.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqUZjNpLetI8NSZGj5eyGqxTASQJIQR84WiSHKeWNUh0BhD6ANdt76OrZQpYCsnbMlkZcmOtqUdvWnvVwwwVHtmoPgcGWtyn86Bu6ZCiuDF7bmxghHlGNndWXF68zEXzge8fyw-L4O1iM/s320/DSC03411.JPG" width="320" /></a><br /><br />Other than the lack of mushrooms, though, it seemed that the forest was weathering this recent dry spell quite well. I took some photos of the mosses and lichens, which are always fascinating to me. It seemed like a great year for lichen.. tons of it all around, blooming... if that's what you call it.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyhLsdK-0WEzZnQUnvR02iA8nvVdzkP8kY-upvm3DwhZ82vrpA18IWpOIbipVb9Idlqi064FoyLIIeUWWlQATlHRHHY5nQiuAobxqga_wXIWoU6iCkeSURL9WQVZgmHD02TLmw5uOmGXI/s1600/DSC03418.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyhLsdK-0WEzZnQUnvR02iA8nvVdzkP8kY-upvm3DwhZ82vrpA18IWpOIbipVb9Idlqi064FoyLIIeUWWlQATlHRHHY5nQiuAobxqga_wXIWoU6iCkeSURL9WQVZgmHD02TLmw5uOmGXI/s320/DSC03418.JPG" width="320" /></a><br /><br />I soon found the spot I had wanted to fish, and walked off the trail and through the forest for a few minutes to find the stream on the other side of some thick pine trees. The pool I had walked up on almost immediately was clearly "the one" that I was looking for.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjG3qhC65ARt8s90TWmlD9izsSvGxIi9v07vjKPmsGcjG7BVdnEBgDg6-tmu9Ug9_rfPLsxtkkKBVFbX2-6ntPLWCW3HyzjvWqjembl0kNku8geUCLF3GYf0Bm34oqbgnHmV87dmu86_28/s1600/DSC03427.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjG3qhC65ARt8s90TWmlD9izsSvGxIi9v07vjKPmsGcjG7BVdnEBgDg6-tmu9Ug9_rfPLsxtkkKBVFbX2-6ntPLWCW3HyzjvWqjembl0kNku8geUCLF3GYf0Bm34oqbgnHmV87dmu86_28/s320/DSC03427.JPG" width="320" /></a><br /><br />I spent a few moments just listening to the sounds around me, simultaneously resting the water in case I had spooked anything while walking up from below. My Nissin Royal Stage was ready to go and I was careful to present the first cast without letting any line touch the water... it was low and I knew the fish would be spooky. I cast a few times below the rock, to no avail. Taking a few careful steps and staying low, I presented a fine cast to the spot behind/above the large rock, and watched as a nice brookie slowly meandered up from the depths behind my fly.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2mJJXyIQB2fs5iTv5xUjOzJxSnzMQlUe1Awzf8tb98Lz7mEhuEcvsUqG3aC7Pg8xHNOBzgyFs3bXl-PSQVacFen5AlO7TNXIFgmvdUU38A5m8ZwNHxIWPc6B030k1sCCymWmpEZC45BQ/s1600/DSC03431.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2mJJXyIQB2fs5iTv5xUjOzJxSnzMQlUe1Awzf8tb98Lz7mEhuEcvsUqG3aC7Pg8xHNOBzgyFs3bXl-PSQVacFen5AlO7TNXIFgmvdUU38A5m8ZwNHxIWPc6B030k1sCCymWmpEZC45BQ/s320/DSC03431.JPG" width="320" /></a><br /><br />I love that moment when time seems to slow to a crawl... you see the colors... the shape... your heart races a bit... the mouth of the fish opens... the fly disappears... SET! The fish is hooked. I landed this brookie in my net and took a quick photo before releasing it back into the wild. A beautiful wild trout indeed.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaFaEm5EACuLYZPZHdlIFKAGlAXc335pERxxIz4EtbEWt1_bIDXloNoJFb2VjuHOcaCLiH48ULnHgRMJdFAJMCH9Iu4I7gvuBxYolUT9ZoRKTxhq5VUhsWZ5mWPEFAjFJb8DvCFed48x4/s1600/DSC03437.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaFaEm5EACuLYZPZHdlIFKAGlAXc335pERxxIz4EtbEWt1_bIDXloNoJFb2VjuHOcaCLiH48ULnHgRMJdFAJMCH9Iu4I7gvuBxYolUT9ZoRKTxhq5VUhsWZ5mWPEFAjFJb8DvCFed48x4/s320/DSC03437.JPG" width="320" /></a><br /><br />Deciding that it made sense to beat the incoming thunderstorms home instead of tempt fate for more fish, I called it a day after this first catch. It just felt right to end there, even though I had not spent much time fishing. So I did just that.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGKQlS37ZxhLtRYUG0ynoBi8rYClZTs2VGXnkR_5yucf5QdluMXH2dosqn5zM1q5QXpUU_ze9RnlThCW3a3_3DsDxJAFvL6AQKMEbZKwxsV50JRycC6XnljFZM1pu74VOsxRb2vsUcGtI/s1600/DSC03440.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGKQlS37ZxhLtRYUG0ynoBi8rYClZTs2VGXnkR_5yucf5QdluMXH2dosqn5zM1q5QXpUU_ze9RnlThCW3a3_3DsDxJAFvL6AQKMEbZKwxsV50JRycC6XnljFZM1pu74VOsxRb2vsUcGtI/s320/DSC03440.JPG" width="320" /></a><br /><br />The walk out was even more beautiful, and it seemed the leaves were changing right in front of my eyes - a bit more color with each step - as if to tease me as I retreated from the stormy ADK weather for the second time this year.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHRa6CtWUT_kF4OSO98wzrMRoNBWOq2MCzf6Pr0eJdQvviDDmUsfqCweq8PLSF8dUTCksEXF2YeRYuXZwhmfYj5CcTfMvfDNPF2tt6rco33BWObZkBn2q_2AvNKml3oqLbVvnvEFKXBrQ/s1600/DSC03453.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHRa6CtWUT_kF4OSO98wzrMRoNBWOq2MCzf6Pr0eJdQvviDDmUsfqCweq8PLSF8dUTCksEXF2YeRYuXZwhmfYj5CcTfMvfDNPF2tt6rco33BWObZkBn2q_2AvNKml3oqLbVvnvEFKXBrQ/s320/DSC03453.JPG" width="320" /></a><br /><br />Taking in one last view of the stream, I collected my thoughts and continued back to the parking lot. It was bittersweet, knowing I had gotten that one perfect wild troutI had been wanting all year up here... but also not knowing when the next time I'd be able to return would be. Colorado is going to be an adventure, but the Adirondacks will always feel like my mountain home.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRBGHddAy86aUHdxHviyfATGOKAN_YRcGkbBcQ2IwFB6rUrW-FsumQpmdDhfQ4TXOlKzhD563B9tn7hFknDTq-7g0mb5qOPQwJo2Cl_ojx1gyV52zvN2rvXPHZB75RYOsTg28u4pu-w-k/s1600/DSC03459.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRBGHddAy86aUHdxHviyfATGOKAN_YRcGkbBcQ2IwFB6rUrW-FsumQpmdDhfQ4TXOlKzhD563B9tn7hFknDTq-7g0mb5qOPQwJo2Cl_ojx1gyV52zvN2rvXPHZB75RYOsTg28u4pu-w-k/s320/DSC03459.JPG" width="320" /></a><br /><br />As the sun sets on my Adventures this season, I have a lot of writing to look forward to... bringing others along as I re-hash the events of the summer here in posts to come.... stay tuned.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1uANy7m1IsExz6aAVWuBzUOZ6Z4Q2Nv2vhnrJ-9W58V3jKsgKBvP7xuztmMDJkm5gq0XH5M0Wu0fQGaDBeT_AVbrD7AhpZcnDpKUS_0gtd5IoaGa3U9WFv-2lFPBuriTiIHEkxo3mKdY/s1600/DSC03499.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1uANy7m1IsExz6aAVWuBzUOZ6Z4Q2Nv2vhnrJ-9W58V3jKsgKBvP7xuztmMDJkm5gq0XH5M0Wu0fQGaDBeT_AVbrD7AhpZcnDpKUS_0gtd5IoaGa3U9WFv-2lFPBuriTiIHEkxo3mKdY/s320/DSC03499.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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Klagshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13404953454187858180noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-239384151854115309.post-70933592517830319002017-09-11T22:36:00.002-04:002017-09-11T22:36:04.038-04:00Fishing Loch Vale & Icy Brook, Rocky Mountain National Park<div style="text-align: center;">
It may be somewhat comical now, that my first update in so long involves fireworks from July 4th... But that's what happens when you are enjoying life and living in the wilderness! Its hard to get service to upload photos, and beyond that, who cares about the internet when you've got the outdoors to enjoy? I sure don't.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheZUy85mZF9qpyimRmb9aryHSN4O2sYPIo6wJeHOCNDxK3SgUHL7GAaQySU0NGGyJ-_D6ht9I2JKHfjCCkNn6qt-gsdr6JiaH_o5im4TrwR3F02zmcj54yNuf9q8jlK8JRIIJyRPdrYSQ/s1600/DSC01471.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheZUy85mZF9qpyimRmb9aryHSN4O2sYPIo6wJeHOCNDxK3SgUHL7GAaQySU0NGGyJ-_D6ht9I2JKHfjCCkNn6qt-gsdr6JiaH_o5im4TrwR3F02zmcj54yNuf9q8jlK8JRIIJyRPdrYSQ/s320/DSC01471.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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Back in July, before hiking the John Muir Trail, Rob and I decided to fish Loch Vale and Icy Brook. Loch Vale appears to be one of the most popular and well known lakes to fish in Rocky Mountain National Park. Walk into any fly shop in the Front Range, and they'll send you here if you're looking for C&R cutthroat fishing without a ridiculously long hike. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1IM4WcbuAgVDAaulqi9scJf7dnpZXsgU1xi77x8wiaFZUBS-t7DKYnDd2bsRTtFI0KjsA_BR5Ld89zudGVGm8UYI0GFMUjVbzWLfJ1pW85TjZpJ1jdcHAD4gjbKzQGgog2r4Cayt80Uc/s1600/DSC01478.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1IM4WcbuAgVDAaulqi9scJf7dnpZXsgU1xi77x8wiaFZUBS-t7DKYnDd2bsRTtFI0KjsA_BR5Ld89zudGVGm8UYI0GFMUjVbzWLfJ1pW85TjZpJ1jdcHAD4gjbKzQGgog2r4Cayt80Uc/s320/DSC01478.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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That being said, the hike is beautiful, as is all the water encountered on this trek.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh10zwkqkeWwhueTe_u3mWS0PWTh9OkOjinKQHbRN_RlLCOAtOFrFplDHiqjgFZ1GQZl2Bkod6Ze-rJ7tokdRFkAXQ-K1lEPFplv-jiuljhGqQKj7alSS9OjcIdNGnVYw7JVm6bHoft8F4/s1600/DSC01484.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh10zwkqkeWwhueTe_u3mWS0PWTh9OkOjinKQHbRN_RlLCOAtOFrFplDHiqjgFZ1GQZl2Bkod6Ze-rJ7tokdRFkAXQ-K1lEPFplv-jiuljhGqQKj7alSS9OjcIdNGnVYw7JVm6bHoft8F4/s320/DSC01484.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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Entering from Glacier Basin, one hikes up a popular trail along waterfalls and cliff-sides, with many scenic outlooks along the way.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiimgWZaztV8hh5aOaJ6ZPPDriPaU0Ib1zqk6MtuzyZSlZKN8qjtbTETDuj-nvmBdkbXJkXNaEr91q5Ny0yKeIWS8TosBUcsvfmxV71z52imF98zliC0fU6PhqdJwCsCkRvayJ5-F9-sYs/s1600/DSC01485.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiimgWZaztV8hh5aOaJ6ZPPDriPaU0Ib1zqk6MtuzyZSlZKN8qjtbTETDuj-nvmBdkbXJkXNaEr91q5Ny0yKeIWS8TosBUcsvfmxV71z52imF98zliC0fU6PhqdJwCsCkRvayJ5-F9-sYs/s320/DSC01485.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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About half way up you can see the mountains that form the cirque above.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMMrm3godjh13abFCtsWen5Lbgdmq0ESgw_Zmxh2jg4xjGNN_cIEkDbC7WSQTWZMQH-BF9fK6kgt3Qf10lQ_OWcQAEXdoHjmBsPLXMEqFynibB5MsV0JyACS1geLq9BwXqKKgJV-wVMsA/s1600/DSC01487.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMMrm3godjh13abFCtsWen5Lbgdmq0ESgw_Zmxh2jg4xjGNN_cIEkDbC7WSQTWZMQH-BF9fK6kgt3Qf10lQ_OWcQAEXdoHjmBsPLXMEqFynibB5MsV0JyACS1geLq9BwXqKKgJV-wVMsA/s320/DSC01487.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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There was still plenty of snow, and the rivers were mostly blown out - but that's why we were focusing on the lakes instead.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRE2T1sylWwtCDPrUzGCioeDWX5H7MWsq22Qvo6wbtiT36yvuoBOqEbh_iq5JqN5RtqXHRy8at-2Pn5Z6iFWE7E9PVNDpGTAoBY5TPJw_ZIBJrnXadhptovcx8C3ze4pDhgHcyKNFtnn4/s1600/DSC01489.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRE2T1sylWwtCDPrUzGCioeDWX5H7MWsq22Qvo6wbtiT36yvuoBOqEbh_iq5JqN5RtqXHRy8at-2Pn5Z6iFWE7E9PVNDpGTAoBY5TPJw_ZIBJrnXadhptovcx8C3ze4pDhgHcyKNFtnn4/s320/DSC01489.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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As soon as we arrived at The Loch I knew it would be an incredible day.</div>
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There were fish stacked up along the logs, fish trolling the shore, and fish rising out in the center as well.</div>
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I took the opportunity to observe some fish for a while below me - it appeared that the spawn was mostly over, but some fish were still in spawn-mode, so I avoided those as best I could.</div>
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Making my way around the lake, I fished with a few different techniques, enticing just a few fish to my fly.</div>
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But as the afternoon waned, it eventually hit that magical point where the fish just turned on.</div>
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I caught countless beautiful and aggressive cutthroats just manipulating Kebari near the shore, and it was glorious.</div>
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Icy Brook ended up being a bust for the day as the cutties were spawning there. So I focused entirely on the lake.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLOs021KOH3YtXK-5eHntQu7fa26bHYu51O-0kg2avGH0P2JL4CyJmvKIvRVPULO3I2nCkDs10rBe6oTmQwuf7imCAR_RNOxCvflNnqxfiV2OE39vwMp3a37OnxDa-dkf3144DTLkMQ1A/s1600/DSC01505.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLOs021KOH3YtXK-5eHntQu7fa26bHYu51O-0kg2avGH0P2JL4CyJmvKIvRVPULO3I2nCkDs10rBe6oTmQwuf7imCAR_RNOxCvflNnqxfiV2OE39vwMp3a37OnxDa-dkf3144DTLkMQ1A/s320/DSC01505.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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The surroundings weren't too shabby...</div>
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the fish weren't the only interesting part of the day to be sure... there were flowers, lichens, and views everywhere.</div>
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Some of the fish were of decent size, and the catch and release policy was surely to thank for that.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOFfzpcmr6ik6Le25gZq8Fa3wODAne8NZRQOl0ptlrOaMU0erIyoPLQHlNmtQYhUvi6ScwMGtoClWOoFqhQ22dZt-KwlgZf_udyVoNQrfQjqdDBiCa8iD5nLr0TilgMvm_YdkfhmnK0Do/s1600/DSC01517.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOFfzpcmr6ik6Le25gZq8Fa3wODAne8NZRQOl0ptlrOaMU0erIyoPLQHlNmtQYhUvi6ScwMGtoClWOoFqhQ22dZt-KwlgZf_udyVoNQrfQjqdDBiCa8iD5nLr0TilgMvm_YdkfhmnK0Do/s320/DSC01517.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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The colors on these fish were just spectacular!</div>
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The later it got, the better the fishing was as well.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmUh_P0DL5Jo5O4bvjvLR5mZI41xcbboxIIkJTBUCgAAW_0R_w3nWEzrtLp3_-AM95OjZC7JONrT6Kkgdl7ddCoOWu7IlocjdmDSGjZ6EVA26Aopw6daOWvJUXvYzQuzxtJrM4BSQdeAE/s1600/DSC01522.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmUh_P0DL5Jo5O4bvjvLR5mZI41xcbboxIIkJTBUCgAAW_0R_w3nWEzrtLp3_-AM95OjZC7JONrT6Kkgdl7ddCoOWu7IlocjdmDSGjZ6EVA26Aopw6daOWvJUXvYzQuzxtJrM4BSQdeAE/s320/DSC01522.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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And with fish like this, how can you leave?</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6jYmWJuT0V7UVQdizNGJNdgGLWYO_wpgzpVrU-tahZ6NLH9Dt2wnjBU2ZLqxYfGR8a5qPxIcDcTyvbxhnMAQOrnz40u5cjx-icXpLfhV3STt90n8tZi3T64e8yXh9hIIi45VY2Sb8Dug/s1600/DSC01531.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6jYmWJuT0V7UVQdizNGJNdgGLWYO_wpgzpVrU-tahZ6NLH9Dt2wnjBU2ZLqxYfGR8a5qPxIcDcTyvbxhnMAQOrnz40u5cjx-icXpLfhV3STt90n8tZi3T64e8yXh9hIIi45VY2Sb8Dug/s320/DSC01531.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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But we all know that they say all good things must come to an end...</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDAFGi-Ibk_UEaFkx99nbMI0iQSrVa23-InBIX2ZqN8EG8sSWc4zUghBfA-gV5Oeykcrn1UZUM1Az-cXy6fDeBkplDh2gXhWTUG9HUA4f6ji51jLfj-BpR103kn3u4DOPIaB_TpHd6ymU/s1600/DSC01534.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDAFGi-Ibk_UEaFkx99nbMI0iQSrVa23-InBIX2ZqN8EG8sSWc4zUghBfA-gV5Oeykcrn1UZUM1Az-cXy6fDeBkplDh2gXhWTUG9HUA4f6ji51jLfj-BpR103kn3u4DOPIaB_TpHd6ymU/s320/DSC01534.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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With a big smile we all hiked down to the trailhead, recounting the forever-imprinted memories of this successful day...</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaHTcrbs-qT7PKAQarDy6ebpIW_-zoTX7JoV7paZXo1cNSaLdZ9OzzUx2TDM0k47p0EVqlE6JdZiloQe_uN_YXYDAzSLUVXwOdlz3WmKrpvb7yVtN2ocdh_M8RPe03uaXhDqXD8WMDUnw/s1600/DSC01535.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaHTcrbs-qT7PKAQarDy6ebpIW_-zoTX7JoV7paZXo1cNSaLdZ9OzzUx2TDM0k47p0EVqlE6JdZiloQe_uN_YXYDAzSLUVXwOdlz3WmKrpvb7yVtN2ocdh_M8RPe03uaXhDqXD8WMDUnw/s320/DSC01535.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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... re-visiting the views from the morning, bathed in newly revealing evening light.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGoNUzZEf2DpjSEM0K79ttt-9Od3SeRuSBH1DlqHjtCDaX6I_02uO61SSNvb8xbnqXCEseWibCdfB3YAy6vPKWWEoGL2qQTTsSbh76wSFK83NvrzXGetwo59l1jSTOVq5rkwQmfc_qASc/s1600/DSC01537.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGoNUzZEf2DpjSEM0K79ttt-9Od3SeRuSBH1DlqHjtCDaX6I_02uO61SSNvb8xbnqXCEseWibCdfB3YAy6vPKWWEoGL2qQTTsSbh76wSFK83NvrzXGetwo59l1jSTOVq5rkwQmfc_qASc/s320/DSC01537.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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I like thinking about how many other people have shared these same moments, fished from these same places, looked upon these same impressive rock formations... we all came here and found this beauty and these fish waiting for us.</div>
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Klagshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13404953454187858180noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-239384151854115309.post-584827774108960832017-07-09T00:25:00.003-04:002017-07-12T23:45:49.082-04:00Timber Creek Campsite and the Back Side of Rocky Mountain National Park<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
I once again find myself sitting on a porch overlooking a night sky, and this time the moon appears to be full. The light reflects off the remaining snowfields, creating a unique scene for those whose eyes are well adjusted to the dark. But the adventure I'm writing about now already happened, and right now my eyes are squinting at a too-small screen while I should be sleeping.</div>
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We decided it was time to check out the back side of RMNP, where I had never been on my previous trips to these mountains. The road over the Continental Divide makes for a fantastic drive, with some of the most incredible mountain views one could wish for. At one of the pull-offs, a little Marmot-buddy was chomping down and was surprised to have been spotted.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiU1GyCJCv1_tq7umOmJwfTb56uVy-ibmSdTb2yUiyzU_LUv2Inbnh3vPwg8n56TeSyEzENlzOkrh7GGCSNtcmdfEicMtn1_k_V_1LRksrfDH9FoYfsaluJlFyiHbEIh_1ne7rIdhiIaJ0/s1600/DSC01326.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiU1GyCJCv1_tq7umOmJwfTb56uVy-ibmSdTb2yUiyzU_LUv2Inbnh3vPwg8n56TeSyEzENlzOkrh7GGCSNtcmdfEicMtn1_k_V_1LRksrfDH9FoYfsaluJlFyiHbEIh_1ne7rIdhiIaJ0/s320/DSC01326.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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The high-alpine flowers are mind blowing, some of them only growing at altitudes over 11,000 feet. Crazy! Others were blanketing the areas down lower as well...</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAEQArujnRWZsW5tDJ_TpkFrXnPDJBgJAETu1F5YKn4bqYjbFd6NP3WY_5tbGW1mL2fDu5dp7viCspD-_ThXT_Do5WWsC5H8vU8hCFzkTfAwWWRL1PQPMnEmQbBI2Lrkh_sTMvjxqzKKo/s1600/DSC01330.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAEQArujnRWZsW5tDJ_TpkFrXnPDJBgJAETu1F5YKn4bqYjbFd6NP3WY_5tbGW1mL2fDu5dp7viCspD-_ThXT_Do5WWsC5H8vU8hCFzkTfAwWWRL1PQPMnEmQbBI2Lrkh_sTMvjxqzKKo/s320/DSC01330.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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On the road near Timber Creek campsite we happened upon a herd of elk... and we grabbed a site for a few nights to call our home.</div>
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The next day we set out to hike up to one of the high alpine lakes holding Cutthroats on this side of the park. We set an ambitious goal, hiking over 5 miles each way. At the entrance to the trailhead, we were greeted with this sign. I wasn't sure what to expect, and it certainly added a sense of uncertainty on top of the aggressive distance goal for the day.</div>
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The trail started out innocently enough, but soon we were into some classic west coast switchbacks.</div>
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This side of the mountain was very green, with some small boggy areas that reminded me of back home.</div>
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But after a while that gave way to a more classic western mountain setting, complete with high-altitude meadow streams and small grassy valleys below the trail.</div>
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We soon arrived at the landslide, which was much less of a big deal than the warning had suggested. We noticed it had settled well, and that the route was well traveled and safe at the moment. No big deal, just a bit of careful stepping for a few hundred feet. Before we knew it, we were at the other side and back on stable trail.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2GLBtaZgmd4vJjI1b6PxpPPkhDY7IMelhkNdVlDXrrt3eCLCiUff7tUyMb1cCbM0FA7PaxARCeraDo-TW0qn-TChsgj2w_B6T9wosjT9jCuVhFAIoZZPSEyWyRxYG3_orH92fd0qvVAg/s1600/DSC01355.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2GLBtaZgmd4vJjI1b6PxpPPkhDY7IMelhkNdVlDXrrt3eCLCiUff7tUyMb1cCbM0FA7PaxARCeraDo-TW0qn-TChsgj2w_B6T9wosjT9jCuVhFAIoZZPSEyWyRxYG3_orH92fd0qvVAg/s320/DSC01355.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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At one of the trail junctions, we tried fishing the outlet stream from the lake, which seemed just about perfect... but all I got was one tap, and Rob got nothing. I think the cutties up in the stream were still either in spawning mode, or the water was still just a bit too cold and high... as is the case along a lot of the trip so far... we were still early for the streams.</div>
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Soon we reached a meadow that I named "lower moose meadow," as we ended up encountering moose both here, as well as in another spot higher up on the trail. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgqJfFUhv-NW6ZLLDlKs_oDCASuo5QSXcZXbbPsCpWmip1ZjSWQH_u6eYn_3CV7fMGsg5o5XWv87ZI3xyfLXl3CWsXcSmQQkhnUPYEhOiQVBmcG_07aXHzh51lHjnXNpOWW3ZXVirh2-8/s1600/DSC01362.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgqJfFUhv-NW6ZLLDlKs_oDCASuo5QSXcZXbbPsCpWmip1ZjSWQH_u6eYn_3CV7fMGsg5o5XWv87ZI3xyfLXl3CWsXcSmQQkhnUPYEhOiQVBmcG_07aXHzh51lHjnXNpOWW3ZXVirh2-8/s320/DSC01362.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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Almost at the lake, the scenery opened up and we saw the ridge line above. Just another .7 or so to go...</div>
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There was a lot of interesting ground cover... I spotted some lichen, mini-flowers and mini-bushy plants that are so interesting if you get close and take a look.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPeSum7tY2opFcupUg6Pp0B3yXyH1lEf_pmPsFC6k0ey85tB0xPPUyxASFR0RddqDgRWNmBAUiIidLdklNTgwh5K655FtOWNokCOy6G7N2obd2o4ZIbToswkMQ8YDKVFH2vpD_O9wmmxI/s1600/DSC01368.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPeSum7tY2opFcupUg6Pp0B3yXyH1lEf_pmPsFC6k0ey85tB0xPPUyxASFR0RddqDgRWNmBAUiIidLdklNTgwh5K655FtOWNokCOy6G7N2obd2o4ZIbToswkMQ8YDKVFH2vpD_O9wmmxI/s320/DSC01368.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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The area immediately below the lake I named "upper moose meadow," as we ran into our second moose there. We nervously talked to the moose as we walked by, hoping he would ignore us, and he did.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPvJ7PvyDMHwYNnBcQzr_cCTjIeF__lmVkVaFfY7EsYWKZ5qHelBg3N6K4x7KwofCw-eFhqx4Mqa9J4V1FYiPBjZco7-QeyEEhyphenhyphen-9moHgyvI5bhysd0t6ugwjwtQUx171Ui6OuAIBGDmc/s1600/DSC01377.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPvJ7PvyDMHwYNnBcQzr_cCTjIeF__lmVkVaFfY7EsYWKZ5qHelBg3N6K4x7KwofCw-eFhqx4Mqa9J4V1FYiPBjZco7-QeyEEhyphenhyphen-9moHgyvI5bhysd0t6ugwjwtQUx171Ui6OuAIBGDmc/s320/DSC01377.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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There was snow on the final pitch, but not very much. The trail mostly had skirted the areas that held the most snow, which was helpful for our pace.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvCxkyGB6YBlh2VLwTEz_gT1oqPpjCKfccnyVYniPoqHT9xwUyin7q3z0dlKE-ROSKvTelFbgP1pJPZoIknyCAy8c56L8zb4uVEkUAjyU6SKX9B9W67nuza67WCICI0RBr0mfcDs6QHjE/s1600/DSC01378.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvCxkyGB6YBlh2VLwTEz_gT1oqPpjCKfccnyVYniPoqHT9xwUyin7q3z0dlKE-ROSKvTelFbgP1pJPZoIknyCAy8c56L8zb4uVEkUAjyU6SKX9B9W67nuza67WCICI0RBr0mfcDs6QHjE/s320/DSC01378.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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We made pretty good time, arriving at the lake early in the afternoon with plenty of time to fish. There was a skinny outlet with spawning cutthroats in it, and those not spawning didn't want anything to do with Rob's fly.</div>
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It spent a moment photographing more flowers and taking in the surroundings...</div>
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... for the view at the lake was truly breathtaking.</div>
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There was an impressive bowl and some incredibly beautiful and tall cliffs surrounding us... we knew higher peaks lurked in the background but we didn't have time to tackle them on this day.</div>
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And so I extended my rod and began to fish. At first, nothing. Then I found a nice group of fish stacked up in a post-spawn feeding frenzy at the inlet.</div>
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I cast above them and immediately hooked my first Cuttie. These weren't Greenbacks, and I believe they were Colorado Cutthroat based on the markings. Please comment below if you have anything to add...</div>
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My second fish was much more colorful... a real beauty.</div>
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After a couple of fish caught and released, Rob jumped in and grabbed one as well. </div>
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His first fish had some striking colors, too. After the other fish were thoroughly spooked, we walked up to a still half-frozen upper lake just above the main lake. It held a few fish, but was absolutely freezing cold and I couldn't feel my feet in only a few seconds. Stepping out, we saw a hiker descending from a depression in the cliffs above. He made fast time, and stopped to chat with us on his way. He had just navigated up to a mountain over 12K, having made the hike to the summit from the upper lake in just 55 minutes. Impressive.</div>
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On our way out, we ran into two hikers with dogs... let's just call them Richie Rainier and Jim Jollygood. Well Richie Rainier and Jim Jollygood had no backpacks... no extra layers, no food, 2 empty gatorades, one empty water bottle, and 4 joints. (Now also gone.) We laughed about this as I refilled one of their water bottles with my filter. Richie Rainier told us that they didn't look at the map and "had no idea how long it would take." Jim Jollygood complained of a headache and dizziness. </div>
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It is hard to believe just how much this kind of interaction occurred up at high altitude during our hikes in the Front Range... people are just crazy sometimes, and so unprepared... and I am surprised there aren't more rescues and issues on the trails regularly. Rob gave them a stern warning about not being unprepared again and we set off down the trail and back toward the car.</div>
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The hike went quickly as we made excellent time back to the car, laughing about the interactions from the day; happy that we had made the hike, caught some fish, and returned before dark without feeling too destroyed. I declared that I was finally fully acclimated, and it felt good.</div>
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That night the sunset was beautiful after some stormy weather blew through. Also following the weather was that same herd of elk, moving up through the valley and into the campsite. The elk were grazing around the tents and came closer than I really wanted... such is nature! At least they didn't try on the guy lines.</div>
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After the Elk bedded down next to our tents, we studied the map and our book to find a few more suitable routes for our upcoming days - and then went to bed feeling accomplished and ready for more.</div>
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As I lay in my tent listening to the elk breathing heavily, almost wheezing, I thought about how surreal this adventure has been in many ways... but also how real it is, and how impactful all of these scenes and experiences have been on me so far. I know this trip will create many vivid and some surreal memories, forever imprinted in my mind... memories and images that I can reach for down the line when I need them most.</div>
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<br />Klagshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13404953454187858180noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-239384151854115309.post-58849609949622174802017-07-07T10:18:00.000-04:002017-07-13T22:45:39.064-04:00Bumming Around the Front Range <div style="text-align: center;">
In between lake adventures, we spent a lot of time exploring a multitude of creeks and forest regions from the Indian Peaks Wilderness North through Rocky Mountain National Park, and west towards the Never Summer Wilderness. Its been hard keeping up with the posts, and since every day is an adventure worthy of its own post, that gets overwhelming...<br />
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Given this reality, I am going to dump a bunch of photos that will tell their own stories, while I work on the next high alpine lake post. I'll probably end up doing a couple of these in between... enjoy!<br />
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Klagshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13404953454187858180noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-239384151854115309.post-5097853325263202212017-07-05T01:06:00.004-04:002017-07-05T01:06:59.778-04:00High Alpine Lake Adventures, Continued... Rocky Mountain National Park<div style="text-align: center;">
Since the rivers were all still melting out, we decided to hit another high alpine lake. Rob and I got lucky and scored 3 nights at Glacier Basin Campground in Rocky Mountain National Park on a walk up... what were the chances of that!?</div>
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That gave us the opportunity to plan a day up at a lake I've been wanting to fish since last time I was in Colorado. We got there pretty early for parking, and headed up the trail... but not without fishing a few holes in the river first.</div>
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I grabbed a nice brookie, and released him back to the river, mostly because we had a long day and it was way too early to be keeping any fish - invasive species or not.</div>
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The trail was dry, in great shape, and we made very good time to the first junction. The river was raging up here, being that the water is forced between solid rock in a rather impressive canyon that has some interesting features to it.</div>
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All this water continued to provide life for the wildflowers, which we were truly enjoying.</div>
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The hike was not easy, gaining some elevation with a few intense switchbacks. I was slowly beginning to acclimate, but still needed a few more days to tackle this kind of hike with relative ease.</div>
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A few waterfalls provided good places for rest and reminded us just how much water was still moving down into the main stems of the rivers.</div>
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After what seemed like more than the claimed mileage to the lake, we were still just below it, and we began to hear thunder. I decided it was worth waiting it out, and luckily the storm passed. We were soon at the lake, and very happy to be there.</div>
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Another small storm rolled in as we took a moment for water and some lunch. As soon as it passed, we fished and I was immediately rewarded with a nice Cutthroat.</div>
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The lake was calm in between bouts of strong wind, and that provided just the time needed to get a few good casts and drifts out to the obviously hungry trout.</div>
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Rob and I each caught a good number of these beauties, and we released them quickly back to their homes in the lake.</div>
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I was doing much better at altitude on this hike than the last one, which was a good sign.</div>
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The good fishing helped too, and I did my best to adapt as the fishing turned on and off for the remainder of the afternoon.</div>
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Some of the Cutties appeared almost ready to spawn, and in the outlet we saw what looked like the beginning of spawning behavior. Leaving those fish alone, I moved to take some photos and enjoy the surroundings. </div>
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Fish were feeding on the surface to very small bugs, but were also taking manipulated flies down deep. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhI6KLXdfpR9oO8dLXtCalwJPfb25Wrw-HC2wxWNv_zjgtRxbD6-fEQUw3ShsSLIUip5CbfkaaZUM_MpUVThq7kHyaUPEg5P1MZ4sCE9qWWSkA5dnFByxPBkgNH_6D-TTFto0w23bOUcs0/s1600/DSC01193.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhI6KLXdfpR9oO8dLXtCalwJPfb25Wrw-HC2wxWNv_zjgtRxbD6-fEQUw3ShsSLIUip5CbfkaaZUM_MpUVThq7kHyaUPEg5P1MZ4sCE9qWWSkA5dnFByxPBkgNH_6D-TTFto0w23bOUcs0/s320/DSC01193.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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The lake was tranquil for the afternoon, and we fished almost all the way around.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEho8gqFlyxNIDTCrZGMFdYDIorGVJkxLVFz-XqO8cM5noOvEVNPsxY0TYC_3MVSTRrzd1sc9gXoLEs116xnEYsVel3TYxTd9iBtZxD05nF5F7uNby5mZxwyYNZ23yqN5rlyDTyXjZxS_7U/s1600/DSC01194.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEho8gqFlyxNIDTCrZGMFdYDIorGVJkxLVFz-XqO8cM5noOvEVNPsxY0TYC_3MVSTRrzd1sc9gXoLEs116xnEYsVel3TYxTd9iBtZxD05nF5F7uNby5mZxwyYNZ23yqN5rlyDTyXjZxS_7U/s320/DSC01194.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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The colors of these fish were just stunning, and I am really glad we had a shot at fishing this particular lake under these prime conditions.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsm7KaNaB-ysKO0RsZd-jtJ2u8Zj9xQV6Ug6OM0epg67PgjHS-DWX5vqxD-NgJP6i9twa8LpaIcMy6Fcjzmhp0H5euYJ-6rNHMCPATq11c1OLymgqQiQ1d8zELh37B8-_Vd2urD2bDwlY/s1600/4B17003C-85C9-4C0D-BFBA-62AAF36686D9.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1070" data-original-width="1600" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsm7KaNaB-ysKO0RsZd-jtJ2u8Zj9xQV6Ug6OM0epg67PgjHS-DWX5vqxD-NgJP6i9twa8LpaIcMy6Fcjzmhp0H5euYJ-6rNHMCPATq11c1OLymgqQiQ1d8zELh37B8-_Vd2urD2bDwlY/s320/4B17003C-85C9-4C0D-BFBA-62AAF36686D9.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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Every time the fishing turned off for a bit, I just looked up and took it all in...</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSfNfMLQdQQoG4IpRqzqPeNO2kCFAsA5Yi5KiaS0oHg0wim-ceD98zgsj8lSZY3jzidchj4YdnABs1X9pWqsNSAcLC5eKFE9dxCaPv3r_5thfDGsAGSt0tt9Y-M0MYiPQ3So2wBKw4lMc/s1600/DSC01195.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSfNfMLQdQQoG4IpRqzqPeNO2kCFAsA5Yi5KiaS0oHg0wim-ceD98zgsj8lSZY3jzidchj4YdnABs1X9pWqsNSAcLC5eKFE9dxCaPv3r_5thfDGsAGSt0tt9Y-M0MYiPQ3So2wBKw4lMc/s320/DSC01195.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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And then the sky began to darken, so we headed down. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0ThbTuEScoDiAHjvexfn0I5wuCSdPevG68d7AnoFeCmks8iggrl3tz0BTPSM-4WYiFFAe-CnB5sje8rrb17yD9Wnt_Y5O1qj3wRrqcWp_e76ctduZX5adnrPOrmpoE8sSCfrL1ynSgUg/s1600/DSC01206.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0ThbTuEScoDiAHjvexfn0I5wuCSdPevG68d7AnoFeCmks8iggrl3tz0BTPSM-4WYiFFAe-CnB5sje8rrb17yD9Wnt_Y5O1qj3wRrqcWp_e76ctduZX5adnrPOrmpoE8sSCfrL1ynSgUg/s320/DSC01206.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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Just as we arrived at the flat part of the trail, the clouds closed in and began to threaten the arrival of another storm.</div>
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The afternoon rains provided good moisture to go along with the melt-out water, and we hiked through a good amount of greenery... </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPH2Wfof9HGwGAodGWIzSCPS9dc5uTbuIFqeutq3GjT1VxvQp997Zqhi736xTnTKN-TXH3cXyEzu73OgU_1BQLeMp-elG1XC0WXUrr-veMEHxcLtcSwLg7vndWhWyN758w_pGQ2R5Ypjg/s1600/IMG_8467.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPH2Wfof9HGwGAodGWIzSCPS9dc5uTbuIFqeutq3GjT1VxvQp997Zqhi736xTnTKN-TXH3cXyEzu73OgU_1BQLeMp-elG1XC0WXUrr-veMEHxcLtcSwLg7vndWhWyN758w_pGQ2R5Ypjg/s320/IMG_8467.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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It rained for the last half mile or so, but we had our trekking umbrellas and stayed dry. It made for a nice walk out... accentuating the smells of this different and unfamiliar forest.</div>
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That night we enjoyed stellar views of the sunset with dramatic clouds of all different types. Glacier Basin campground ended up being a great spot to camp, and I hope I can come back here to camp again soon!</div>
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Klagshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13404953454187858180noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-239384151854115309.post-24011871659007249812017-06-28T11:37:00.000-04:002017-06-30T00:21:21.594-04:00A High Alpine Adventure - Fishing Our First Lake for Cutthroat Trout<br />
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After a few days of “vacation” near Boulder, fishing the
rare slow pockets in blown out creeks, and poking around the different
backcountry trailheads and campsites, we were ready for some adventures in the
Front Range. We chose an "easier" hike to our first high alpine lake, being that we
figured it was a modest 2.5ish miles each way, and took us up to a nice high
elevation to test our abilities thus far.<o:p></o:p></div>
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The hike started out innocently enough, with unseasonably
warm temps for the mountains, and dry, easy trail. We were already pretty high
up, and the views were stunning right from the start.<o:p></o:p></div>
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To rewind just a bit, we had run into some people at the
trailhead on the way in… one was a mountaineer preparing for a group hike up to
a peak along a snowfield. The other was a father and son who had hoped to catch
some trout at the lake. The mountaineer told me there was a lot of snow and not
really much trail. I could tell he was being modest and trying not to judge us,
but the look in his eye said it all… we were in for it. The father and son duo
told us that they turned around when they lost the trail in “a glacier.” Hmmm...<o:p></o:p></div>
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Needless to say we packed our ice axes, micro spikes,
gaiters and a good supply of food and extra layers. Of course we brought our
rods because we wanted to catch some cutthroat, but neither of us was really
sure we were getting to the lake. <o:p></o:p></div>
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As the trail climbed, we began to encounter wildflowers and
a good deal of snow. We weren’t breaking through or post-holing, which was a
good sign. After passing the first junction with a trail leading up to the
Arapaho Glacier, we came to a waterfall where some people were snacking and
taking a break. A couple told us that we could easily cross the stream and head
up the trail, but that they had lost it and had to turn back.</div>
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We pushed through, vowing to at least try to make it up to
where other people turned back. The snow was already quite deep, and we were
beginning to find places where post-holing was becoming an issue. It was
important to stay vigilant, and use our poles to test the ground if needed. </div>
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We
put on our micro-spikes and followed the most obvious sets of footprints we
could find. It was soon evident that the footprints in the snow were no longer
following a trail. However, we had maps, compasses, and had been able to take
note of the features we were now navigating from across the canyon at the start
of the trail.<o:p></o:p></div>
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As we climbed higher, footprints faded. I noted that the
footprints were going too far up and not left, where the map indicated we
needed to go. We kept climbing. It was steep, and the going was tough. We kept
a good pace… maybe too good. Rob and I each had our own moments of doubt, but
in the end we decided to head left as I had wanted to do, and I brought us up
into the first bowl on the map. Rob consulted with me and we agreed that it was
the feature we thought it was from the map, and he laid out a path following
the ridge, which we then did.<o:p></o:p></div>
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I wish I had more photos of the section along the ridge,
because it was really cool. However, we were pre-occupied with navigation and
safe passage over small snow fields and snowmelt drainage channels. At one
point, we looked up to see the mountaineering trail up the side of the
mountain… a gigantic snowfield with significant pitch… and we were glad that we
weren’t going up that way.<o:p></o:p></div>
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After another strenuous climb over a small ridge, and around
a steep hillside, we spotted the depression and break in the cliffs that we
knew held the lake. At this point I was pretty taxed, both mentally and
physically. But it had been my call to push on, and so I wanted to make it to
the lake at this point, because I could taste it between heavy breaths.</div>
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Soon we managed to find the actual trail, just a tiny
section exposed and melted out. We once again found footsteps, and Rob made the
final push to the opening to the lake. We had made it! Whew. Time for a good
rest, a lot of water, and a big snack…</div>
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After which I knew we had to fish… but the wind was blowing
something awful and the lake just wasn’t producing for me. Rob watched me
struggle with the wind and the current, neither of us spotting any fish. At
this point there were some heavy gusts, it was extremely cold, and yet the sun
was intense and I knew I was overexposed. <o:p></o:p></div>
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I decided to give up on fishing and we walked back up to the
ridge to get our position on the map. At this point, I spotted the outflow, and
a nice pool below the snow bridge at the edge of the lake. My morale jumped and
I high-tailed it down to the edge, setting up my rod again and figuring at least
I’d have tried… until I saw a nice 14” brookie practically at my feet!</div>
<br />
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I did my best to drop a fly at it, but all that happened was
that it swam away spooked instead. I cast out a few times along the edge where
I saw him, figuring some other fish were hiding below the bank and I might get
a hit… but there was nothing. Going with a heavier bead head fly, I nymphed
through the current at the center of the pool. All of a sudden the line went
taught, and I set the hook. Whoooo Buddy! Fish on. I whooped and hollered to
make sure Rob heard me, and he came running. I ended up landing a beautiful
high mountain cutthroat! <o:p></o:p></div>
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Rob took a cast and on his first good drift I saw the rod
bend hard… it was another fish. What luck! It was as if the mountain gods had
somehow felt we had earned this moment after pushing through it all and making
it to the lake after all.<o:p></o:p></div>
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The walk down and back was a serious undertaking, to say the
least. There are no photos of this section for good reason… I was feeling the
altitude, the overexposure to the sun, and was possibly at the edge of
dehydration. I wanted to get down fast. Unfortunately, that’s not exactly what
happened, and it was a serious challenge to get back to the crossing and the
waterfall where we had left the last people that had turned back that day.<o:p></o:p></div>
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But we did make it, and, as exhausted as I was, and as much
as my head was pounding, I was in great spirits. We stopped for more water and
another snack. I focused on breathing deep and getting as much oxygen as I
could. The sights around me… fields of flowers and the clean smell of the air
had me distracted enough to make good time. <o:p></o:p><br />
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On the last leg, we ran into another guy taking a break. He
had also turned back, having gone up and back twice in slightly different paths
trying to find his way. Ultimately, the issue was he was unprepared and it’s a
good thing he didn’t commit to breaking from the footsteps as we had done,
since he had started much later in the day, and without anything other than a
bathing suit, lunch, and a jacket. Yikes.<o:p></o:p></div>
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We finally made it back to the trailhead and our campsite,
exhausted and beaten up pretty hard. But we were triumphant. Happy that we had
made it, that we had navigated off trail in the snow in the high mountains,
that we had done it reasonably fast and without major issues, we settled in for
the evening and slept it off, soon ready for another high alpine adventure… <o:p></o:p><br />
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Klagshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13404953454187858180noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-239384151854115309.post-70903090550504237072017-06-24T00:30:00.001-04:002017-06-24T00:30:47.416-04:00Going West as Young Men!<div style="text-align: center;">
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Tonight I'm sitting on an old wooden porch in the Peaceful Valley, and it needs a new paint job. Listening to the river raging below, still surging over its banks from snowmelt, I take a moment to really let this all settle in. We've been out west for about a week now, and I finally feel, that for the first time since our adventures along the Savage River, that things are truly going well.<br />
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Realistically, some of this relates to the weather. Ok, so we became the rain for a long time. We let it settle in. We even got pretty good at staying warm, dry and comfortable. We even made it fun and funny. But it really began to ruin our backpacking plans in the Northeast. We needed to see some breaks between days of heavy rain, thundershowers, and occasional showers in order to get up on the summits of some high peaks. Overall, that just wasn't going to happen and we had to go west...<br />
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The drive is a heck of a long one, across a lot of very similar-looking farmland and flatland, much of which we have obviously completely ruined by de-foresting and/or plowing through the prairie. I couldn't help but to wonder what it was like before we pushed our way across and displaced the Native Americans. No use in lingering there, though.<br />
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The first night was mostly uneventful, and we stayed at a cheap hotel near South Bend, Indiana. I kept wondering if we were out of Pennsylvania yet, but actually we had left it hours before. (Just kidding.) There wasn't much other than the University of Notre Dame, a bunch of hotels, and a lot of restaurants serving what appeared to be same-looking dishes of "american faire." We opted for Thai food, which was a good choice, and hit the sack early. The following day we repeated the sun-up to sun-set driving pattern, ending up in Gothenburg, Nebraska. </div>
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Gothenburg was actually a really interesting little town, even though there really wasn't much going on there. We ended up finding an amazing little restaurant run and staffed by just one proud Chinese owner/chef. She had American Breakfast, a few standard steak and chicken items for that kind of diner, and then a whole list of home made Chinese food. It was baller, to say the least. What a surprise... and her restaurant was really cool too, in that tiny little dome-like building. Quaint and humble doesn't always do the trick, but it sure made for a great meal this time around.</div>
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After dinner, we stopped at the original Pony Express Station, which had been moved from another nearby town along the Platte River and preserved on a site just outside of town...</div>
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We were basically following the route of the old Trans-Continental Railroad at this point, and Gothenburg was right along it. The views along the railway at sunset were pretty incredible, and while not anything like a mountain sunset, they really made a strong emotional impact. Its hard to describe... the photos do better at that than I ever could.</div>
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In the morning we were really excited because we would soon be in Colorado, and we would only have to drive for a few hours more. A quick stop for coffee and a bagel, and we were on our way... but not before stopping at the Sod House Museum... too bad it was closed ;)</div>
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As we approached Colorado, everything suddenly got very flat, and we knew we were about to cross the border. Excitement was growing!</div>
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Now we had some early morning plans set aside for our crossing into Colorado... we wanted to stop by an old railroad/prairie town that was experiencing a revival thanks to the Cannabis industry in order to grab a bite, stop at the first dispensary over the border, and enjoy the goods at a local haunt called "The Smoke Shack." I was excited to see a "small town Colorado" town in the prairie, as I've visited plenty of mountain towns in the past. I was also happy to spend some tourist $$ there to add to what was going on.</div>
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We got a little bit of some decent (although not great) Cannabis at this tourist trap of a Dispensary and took it across the street as recommended. The Smoke Shack ended up being a really cool old 50's-era inspired shack with lots of old memorabilia and an assortment of tables and chairs. It was attached to a cafe and an overpriced, quaint and certainly unique inn, most likely owned by the same family. Too bad we hadn't made better time to stay there on the way over, just for the experience. Signs in the Smoke Shack indicated strangers were welcome, but bums were not. Which one were we? </div>
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There was a car show going on in town, and we observed from the smoke shack as the scene unfolded. Music was playing in the streets. It was hot and dusty. There were locals and younger transplants, but not that many people. One obviously semi-local and conservative man in western garb walked past the entrance to the shack and looked in, watching us enjoying our morning. He gave us the most obvious look of disapproval and a good shake of the head. That made me laugh uncontrollably, and all I could do was wave and smile back in amusement.</div>
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The atmosphere was very much what I had expected, and I was loving every moment of it. We spent some time relaxing, checking out a few cars, and eating at the Cafe. There wasn't much more in town to see, so after a while we got back on the road and headed towards Denver.</div>
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It was hard to believe this was the same Colorado I had visited a couple of times previously, as the Eastern portion of the state is completely different than the Western portion. There are no tall mountains, and its mostly just flat prairie... cow country or desolate, dry, albeit beautiful land.</div>
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Soon, however, the mountains appeared. We booked a room at a posh new hotel in downtown Denver that had some crazy deals for rooms facing construction work... but we didn't care... we had a balcony, a bit of a view and construction didn't end up happening until we were awake the next morning anyway.</div>
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We took some time to walk around downtown Denver, visit a few breweries that were making some New England style IPA's, and toured a few Cannabis shops and smoking clubs. It was immensely fun to be Cannabis tourists for a few days, and felt a bit like a vacation within our trip. Much needed relaxation ensued!</div>
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Next we headed to Boulder, the Montbell store, and then up Boulder Canyon for some views and to check into our hotel for a few days. This was my second time staying at the Boulder Adventure Lodge, and I really have to say I like this place... It has a real community atmosphere for those on the road. There are two hostel rooms, a bunch of regular rooms, suites, and a couple of tent pads. A few picnic tables overlooking the river provided a nice social environment where all the travelers were chatting and getting to know each other. This also happened to be the "420 friendly" smoking area, and it made for a truly fun and socially stimulating environment. I can't wait to go back again next time.</div>
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We met some amazing people and I definitely won't forget some of them for a long time. We spent the most time with Nancy, who had a really sweet, well thought-out conversion camper van with all the things one would want. She was really cool, with a great attitude, some fun stories... real free-spirit with a good heart. Nancy became our resident "den mother" for the weekend, and she was like the social glue binding everyone together. It was great. We also met Joshua who was attending the Jack Kerouac School of Disembodied Poetics; Ines, from Philly who was going to climb the Sawtooth peaks in Boulder, Tanya, Bev, Danny, and a few others who's names are eluding me at the moment. We spent some evenings drinking, smoking, singing, and sharing stories. If there ever was a moment to say "good vibes," this was it. What a great start to the western portion of this adventure.</div>
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There also happened to be some of the only calm water we could find in a stream running right through the property... which meant that lots of browns, seeking refuge from the roaring main stem of Boulder Creek, had swum up, and were feeding with wild abandon.</div>
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I showed Nancy and Ines how to fish, both of them catching a trout or two on Tenkara in just a few moments. I fished the stream a few times over our 3 nights at the lodge, and caught many beautiful browns. It was nice having this during melt-out, as the rest of the rivers were just completely blown out, and as we weren't quite acclimated to the point of hiking to an alpine lake just yet.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJ_0gzE3pDEwyQFX_BDAkrYAzINrZBnCR-Nj8CFs0eFKejKGnCAStP9lnNw7YHkXfXTOxBcPkfTybGCwj4xdyuJ7Blz2p7wJ-bSW16SA08cArwyCHLZ26ZRan4AeFghhs3-_Mulc2Q-jU/s1600/IMG_8408.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJ_0gzE3pDEwyQFX_BDAkrYAzINrZBnCR-Nj8CFs0eFKejKGnCAStP9lnNw7YHkXfXTOxBcPkfTybGCwj4xdyuJ7Blz2p7wJ-bSW16SA08cArwyCHLZ26ZRan4AeFghhs3-_Mulc2Q-jU/s320/IMG_8408.JPG" width="240" /></a></div>
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We spent some time exploring the area, fishing Boulder Creek, looking for (and finding a few) isolated streams in lower elevations that were not melting from snow-covered peaks. We did find a few streams that literally started up in drainage ditches above Boulder city that were not blown out, and we caught fish. brookies, rainbows, and browns. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSMIoV_UQJNJrC5XFzryD5DOfVXgVx9S8V2B1aZ6FxKISDLRw7tMxrUTwHxgFelg48vvS3-pg04pe1vj-L5UFg55tKjlOfpqnlCND_SR0p14kaWB0AH9iyVS4LDHglLmfVh1TCH8tQXm8/s1600/IMG_0364.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSMIoV_UQJNJrC5XFzryD5DOfVXgVx9S8V2B1aZ6FxKISDLRw7tMxrUTwHxgFelg48vvS3-pg04pe1vj-L5UFg55tKjlOfpqnlCND_SR0p14kaWB0AH9iyVS4LDHglLmfVh1TCH8tQXm8/s320/IMG_0364.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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Rob has been using Anthony Naples' new rod a lot recently, and I've been using my TUSA Rhodo, since these rods excel at throwing bead heads... which we really need to be doing right now during melt-out. Its the only thing that works, and it works well. These rods also do a great job of controlling fish in rough current, something we don't have to do this much of in the Northeast. Its one thing to fish waterfall pools... its another to fish blown-out streams at peak melt-out. It takes a bit of backbone to control fish in those strong currents, even the small ones, and I didn't want to overly stress my Oni rods too early on.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8XfmPIQWpiO0aN9FfZuGnRRwzOTiQeJLR0_FFqtL4vSLdcw5RqYon-SDdf7Ztp3q6fPtf_qQE5B_q_U9HjEgKEfIGdSQghG_jfKFdci-QnB11zcbXn7bSpYAlIFnAIVxmP1RtQmnOHSc/s1600/IMG_0375.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8XfmPIQWpiO0aN9FfZuGnRRwzOTiQeJLR0_FFqtL4vSLdcw5RqYon-SDdf7Ztp3q6fPtf_qQE5B_q_U9HjEgKEfIGdSQghG_jfKFdci-QnB11zcbXn7bSpYAlIFnAIVxmP1RtQmnOHSc/s320/IMG_0375.JPG" width="240" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhABBZo0CfyQfXuLQD_8_-LBRbJD8x1m8Z6fQuDMO3vRneCcEqfb6Otyc5uc1Rb5HDnUm5zMpettKmlBf02iRR4psZiucxZRtwtoGGOeiE3fnp2fqbvWjDeJssEpQWBhpxlGOPgpMBzAvs/s1600/IMG_8353.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhABBZo0CfyQfXuLQD_8_-LBRbJD8x1m8Z6fQuDMO3vRneCcEqfb6Otyc5uc1Rb5HDnUm5zMpettKmlBf02iRR4psZiucxZRtwtoGGOeiE3fnp2fqbvWjDeJssEpQWBhpxlGOPgpMBzAvs/s320/IMG_8353.JPG" width="240" /></a></div>
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But what we really wanted were some Cutthroats, so we said goodbye to our new friends and headed off into the mountains of the Indian Peaks Wilderness and surrounding areas to see what we could find. Mostly what we found, and quite obviously at that, was raging water. Intense, roaring, not at all gentle streams that had few to no pockets, and in which these said pockets still yielded no strikes or fish. It was just too early to chase fish here.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEib_U64peQaJH7Ws3vrYRh_yqAHmeON_3wHTvLQVkuj5isiFnNJ5Da3CVdlb9NOHOqshX_yacm_2YJ1DkDPVatskYk57uWz8o79F3TaeTJ0jIZr_AmJ7Yp_8zrePAA1prgZrJJLpwgwmBE/s1600/DSC00908.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEib_U64peQaJH7Ws3vrYRh_yqAHmeON_3wHTvLQVkuj5isiFnNJ5Da3CVdlb9NOHOqshX_yacm_2YJ1DkDPVatskYk57uWz8o79F3TaeTJ0jIZr_AmJ7Yp_8zrePAA1prgZrJJLpwgwmBE/s320/DSC00908.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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And, so, appropriately, Rob put on his best Colorado mountain outfit, and we did just that anyway... chasing fish in blown-out rivers for a few days. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgop4-r7gle1OLNh2O7oH9QtYFjJGXmeM3127uJBnRu2ttCFXW0mfnbIuD4k6O5n1ibwWY5R7v4i7U74yGgcwCq_P03PWXnGI2nZ6tlyBoQcfCxETS_J53g4slRM2CJXBicx3vf2-SbFN8/s1600/DSC00910.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1067" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgop4-r7gle1OLNh2O7oH9QtYFjJGXmeM3127uJBnRu2ttCFXW0mfnbIuD4k6O5n1ibwWY5R7v4i7U74yGgcwCq_P03PWXnGI2nZ6tlyBoQcfCxETS_J53g4slRM2CJXBicx3vf2-SbFN8/s320/DSC00910.JPG" width="213" /></a></div>
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I took a lot of photos of flowers, which were beginning to pop all around.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnyhYbYWqR_nw-Y_k2bXah0WR6k266XZoLkxAOOoI3JZh7f830rq8twsAMr9F5Q2tr4kNHGAfsNWm3WPdRlbrFXm32EQWIK2T1v9H95oK3277FXNqYud7OKRangxXb4IX4FPTSiV_m77Y/s1600/DSC00912.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnyhYbYWqR_nw-Y_k2bXah0WR6k266XZoLkxAOOoI3JZh7f830rq8twsAMr9F5Q2tr4kNHGAfsNWm3WPdRlbrFXm32EQWIK2T1v9H95oK3277FXNqYud7OKRangxXb4IX4FPTSiV_m77Y/s320/DSC00912.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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I also got some photos of raging water... because there was plenty of that to photograph.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTc-Ch-3dNiJSmn96JnEYXZ370fsrwVFKc0aVndofpAGjMP3wIvhuI5gPWC6NRc_VHh55_pENbulGLkp0ujJ7igQZxnsXeBxa4iE5Hj7L91aNYFHAzTRWfKPfxLHxYIjDWpeyN-dUcKT4/s1600/DSC00916.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTc-Ch-3dNiJSmn96JnEYXZ370fsrwVFKc0aVndofpAGjMP3wIvhuI5gPWC6NRc_VHh55_pENbulGLkp0ujJ7igQZxnsXeBxa4iE5Hj7L91aNYFHAzTRWfKPfxLHxYIjDWpeyN-dUcKT4/s320/DSC00916.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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But my favorite, so far, were the beautiful backcountry dirt roads that lead to story-book valleys and miles-long views up into snow-capped peaks, lined with rows of pine and spruce trees.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrhTdb8Y4fn-1M7h9cYPKTxMKVZinEZsVZLWjwHsYA3DbZEWinTny-pQ5s_A9xboHKEE8TRciihGoCTlsxvTMevDq2iFlBLAtkbhJZqFbVCwVuKjV5y-dL9A6LzcbrQ_T2I-L7_RRUEaY/s1600/DSC00919.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrhTdb8Y4fn-1M7h9cYPKTxMKVZinEZsVZLWjwHsYA3DbZEWinTny-pQ5s_A9xboHKEE8TRciihGoCTlsxvTMevDq2iFlBLAtkbhJZqFbVCwVuKjV5y-dL9A6LzcbrQ_T2I-L7_RRUEaY/s320/DSC00919.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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We hiked a few trails from the ends of these roads to get going on our training, but nothing too difficult to start. It was harder to breathe by a long shot at 10,000 feet.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfl9jCCEvZeJCwa1lGHrJBOY5U-RQ0MliGNzvDZ78ZabPJFPjPqdYHXtmG3wDnfF5HZguTHehvUHy_QrXn3bBhWLHBWWCdvENcfehaT5sOXP9zLIhAlX0Buk1m-fxc49-GliJkz8UYr4s/s1600/DSC00930.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfl9jCCEvZeJCwa1lGHrJBOY5U-RQ0MliGNzvDZ78ZabPJFPjPqdYHXtmG3wDnfF5HZguTHehvUHy_QrXn3bBhWLHBWWCdvENcfehaT5sOXP9zLIhAlX0Buk1m-fxc49-GliJkz8UYr4s/s320/DSC00930.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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We took a campsite in the National Forest near the Indian Peaks Wilderness for a few nights and prepared for our first high-elevation hike to fish for cutthroats in a lake. I haven't done much lake fishing for trout, but I knew I was excited to get up there.</div>
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Finally, after months of clouds and rain, being in cities, light-polluted highway towns, and generally just having bad luck, we saw stars. LOTS of stars. At least I did. Rob went to sleep early :)</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbWDYE-JN3d9a6q1xxoBLM_-UQyztghByA6Ck5XVHQD0RGu56Knn4PvpFbEahM46Nae7rcBrVqtrWFNRYYoMLbE3pdRiCy4jR3JoNWOTZS-O9QBXLvZT8aWRp_j6TSkF1sH6rsncyabqk/s1600/DSC00940.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbWDYE-JN3d9a6q1xxoBLM_-UQyztghByA6Ck5XVHQD0RGu56Knn4PvpFbEahM46Nae7rcBrVqtrWFNRYYoMLbE3pdRiCy4jR3JoNWOTZS-O9QBXLvZT8aWRp_j6TSkF1sH6rsncyabqk/s320/DSC00940.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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There's something special about looking up into the night sky and seeing all the stars twinkling and shining there, so very far away. This subconscious (or conscious) observation of reality conveys a certain feeling... a sort-of longing, or curiosity - and a connection with something greater than we are. It is these intangible things which I enjoy experiencing the most... things that are lost in the hustle and bustle of city life; the lack of which can so clearly create a rift between an individual of the modern era, and the age-old humanity that we all have, somewhere inside of us.</div>
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Klagshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13404953454187858180noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-239384151854115309.post-43195932051433618032017-06-18T02:08:00.002-04:002017-06-18T02:08:41.760-04:00Cold Rain, Mud, Mountains, Backpacking, Misery, Heartbreak... They All Go Together<div class="" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
Taking a day off between hikes is usually a good idea, so Rob & I decided to go back to the motel to do some laundry and pack for another trip into the High Peaks. I had my eye on a 2-day weather window approaching, in which we'd be able to potentially hike in with only a quick storm, then have a partly-cloudy but not rainy day for the Gothics/Armstrong/Wolfjaws ridge, and finally, hike out... of course... in the rain. Ha!</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiREajnCFHfG7xHDXH-G1ptlGzFu6yLVirm-ZSlgqOEyiS-EA9nCM42nlpsxRwCryHp2YJUhye96x07BowQbkkGsbNIk8K9f4jZW6HeJ5yiacefb9S52y-NWNHyfH1Ap8PljBNadK50XK4/s1600/IMG_8179.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiREajnCFHfG7xHDXH-G1ptlGzFu6yLVirm-ZSlgqOEyiS-EA9nCM42nlpsxRwCryHp2YJUhye96x07BowQbkkGsbNIk8K9f4jZW6HeJ5yiacefb9S52y-NWNHyfH1Ap8PljBNadK50XK4/s320/IMG_8179.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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We packed our gear and made the drive to the Garden lot and trailhead. Arriving early in the AM on a weekday and early in the season, the lot was the most empty I had ever seen it. Most people never have and never will see it the way it is photographed above... such tranquility... those who have hiked here before will know what I'm getting at here. </div>
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The hike in is beautiful, and runs along John's Brook for a bit at the start, and then again a few miles in near John's Brook Lodge.</div>
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This stream was, seemingly on its way to recovery for Brook Trout until, after Irene, the lower section was channelized and "ruined" by man. The fish don't seem to want to swim up anymore. I'll avoid delving too deep into this topic right now, but its a sore one, to say the least. I hear they now stock the stream up here with small brookies, and we did catch a few along the way. No wild fish from what I caught.</div>
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The warm sun was bringing out the mushrooms - and although there was a storm forecast for later on, I was able to feel, even if just for a moment, that things were taking a turn for the better. Looking back, I probably should have seen this as too good to be true, or some kind of foreshadowing.</div>
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Meanwhile, though, the sun was still shining in full force, and walking into the field with the familiar old cabin near the trail junction and suspension bridge, I really felt a sense of overwhelming joy - as well as a bit of nostalgia from years passed.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiccMcqJyOri2HfP0sKMHux04QIUsvYfSNGtrkWFN5qdp8Ko3m_hLAA8qFP0zwTltv4TeWzJhfGi4bTBLAV9mztUsZ1NI5liEbyjPeMnghRirMksZMQIo5N9kVrQT3aQkTUzkXgHUXPstY/s1600/DSC00874.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiccMcqJyOri2HfP0sKMHux04QIUsvYfSNGtrkWFN5qdp8Ko3m_hLAA8qFP0zwTltv4TeWzJhfGi4bTBLAV9mztUsZ1NI5liEbyjPeMnghRirMksZMQIo5N9kVrQT3aQkTUzkXgHUXPstY/s320/DSC00874.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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I was happy that Rob was getting to see this area, and I couldn't wait to see his face when we got to the slide climbing up to Gothics the next day.</div>
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Crossing the suspension bridge, we noted that the river was still raging. It was early June now, and melt out should have been finished long ago. However, late snow storms had left extra ice and snow to melt away... and, coupled with all the rain that had been falling, things were clearly running a bit behind schedule.</div>
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I chose for us to set up camp at the site near the Orebed Lean-To, and we arrived right before the scheduled storm was supposed to roll through.</div>
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As if on cue, the clouds began to fill in the sky above, and we marveled at the rare accuracy of a mountain weather report.</div>
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Bunkering down in the lean-to, we sat and watched the storm roll in... fast. The thunder was pretty loud, and the storm moved in right over us. First came the rain, then the hail, then larger chunks of hail... and then a bit of solid rain. </div>
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Rob read aloud some stories from the lean-to's log book, some of which were quite interesting. The most memorable was that of a bear that scared some hikers away from their food as they were eating dinner, preceded to eat their half-made dinners, then the rest of the food from the barrels, packaging and all, and then finally left them alone and went away. </div>
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But the craziest part was how they described the bear returning at 1:30 AM, waking them up in their hammocks, plopping down right under them, and then unleashing a fury of loud farting, belching and disgusting breath... I just pictured these guys fearing for their lives, trying not to gag from the smelly bear emissions, and not being able to sleep at all. At least I know that the dehydrated food does the same thing to a bear's stomach as it does to mine if it isn't rehydrated well...</div>
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Little did I know Rob would soon be writing his own crazy story in that very same log book... but for now we were eating dinner and getting ready to hit the sack early. I rehydrated some morels, and combined that with some herbs, salt, corn and peppers in a single serving of 5 minute cous-cous. It ended up being one of the best meals I've had on the trail in a while. And of course, the joy of knowing we picked those morels was pretty great too.</div>
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Orebed brook campsite is a great place to get water... the tributary running next to the site tastes really mineral after running over rocks for so long. I always love drinking the water from here, and I can think about the taste right now as I'm writing about it.</div>
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The upper Orebed brook itself is similar, if not a bit larger. There are no trout up here anymore, if there ever were any at all... </div>
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There were plenty of other things to look at and photograph than fish though, that's for sure.</div>
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Sunset over the mountains with the clouds in the distance was beautiful, and I forgot all about the rain for a moment. But the next morning brought new challenges, as I awoke to a loud scream. I wasn't sure that was what I heard... but then I heard a yell for help.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXqcge9bv_elLgfQ2GGWC52JyAjTQal1OCdKG4mqX-cTnqnmmbh-x9Ee1POP685L19E_12VE35uSCht6XR7d_sStfpj3PAHZRUDg5o8H_wknPlbev7esSbbJ9qpYd1jM_pphOvVjOkl44/s1600/IMG_8202.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXqcge9bv_elLgfQ2GGWC52JyAjTQal1OCdKG4mqX-cTnqnmmbh-x9Ee1POP685L19E_12VE35uSCht6XR7d_sStfpj3PAHZRUDg5o8H_wknPlbev7esSbbJ9qpYd1jM_pphOvVjOkl44/s320/IMG_8202.JPG" width="240" /></a></div>
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Wiping the sleep out of my eyes, I looked down as Rob threw this stake-impaled shoe under my tarp, and I jumped up, knowing that this was a major injury in need of some immediate medical care. It turns out Rob had stomped a stuck tent stake in his Altras, and somehow it went right through the sole, the rock guard, the foot-bed and then into his heal. Ouch.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidh9V56IK_1v9G3GquxVy-uAch7OC6YUJhZi-gUnOSuuUqWAZ3ggxB1h0ChQi5zAQ5Xq1kkIqtxbtwJ7fUHaDMJZxSKP4nHYomciHKHQyGTR6VUruGgmDFZJV-HvEdiCSnnDWZTEaKDL0/s1600/DSC00894.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidh9V56IK_1v9G3GquxVy-uAch7OC6YUJhZi-gUnOSuuUqWAZ3ggxB1h0ChQi5zAQ5Xq1kkIqtxbtwJ7fUHaDMJZxSKP4nHYomciHKHQyGTR6VUruGgmDFZJV-HvEdiCSnnDWZTEaKDL0/s320/DSC00894.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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After a flurry of activity, wound-cleaning and bandaging; shock management and recovery and a bit of a breather, Rob posed for a photo with his shoe. Good sport. I was worried about how we'd get out of the backcountry, at least 4-5 miles in, given the situation. I contemplated which hut or building the ranger or caretaker would be in, and the fastest way to get there. I thought about how I'd carry his pack and stuff if he could walk out. But it turned out we didn't need to worry about any of that, as Rob figured out how to walk out on the ball of that foot, with his own full pack, making somewhat remarkable time out and back to the car.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgRyIkm3LTcf-6Fq98jtLGRMOv-kd4247fXfilmX82TPhEp75x35ZuN7cf8IwjjucBmZ-l8d9JVZNokTAkLJcAVJHgUnTb8Iv3vWsSyjcvZmmegh0KJ-6OoJN1kskbgQKy9fJ7fHo-lXE/s1600/DSC00895.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgRyIkm3LTcf-6Fq98jtLGRMOv-kd4247fXfilmX82TPhEp75x35ZuN7cf8IwjjucBmZ-l8d9JVZNokTAkLJcAVJHgUnTb8Iv3vWsSyjcvZmmegh0KJ-6OoJN1kskbgQKy9fJ7fHo-lXE/s320/DSC00895.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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For obvious reasons, I don't have any more photos of this trip after we ate breakfast, but needless to say, given the situation, we got out of this one pretty easily. However, we were now off the trail for an unknown period of time, and there was of course the immediate fear of what this would do to affect our plans for hiking a section of the PCT later this season. And the weather... more rain forecast for weeks. Ugh.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSXuY5Bar7e_67auQLvcIXG32HeUbDyh5ahSeBDIGC6KxVdwofVGB87PflvXoTlLijfyP2lKxMyadjYknEh4K9avi9yI1V64nNZLV24nH5s5PYl1ygdXdVDCSE1tQ4ZMllRffO8fDpbPo/s1600/DSC00886.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSXuY5Bar7e_67auQLvcIXG32HeUbDyh5ahSeBDIGC6KxVdwofVGB87PflvXoTlLijfyP2lKxMyadjYknEh4K9avi9yI1V64nNZLV24nH5s5PYl1ygdXdVDCSE1tQ4ZMllRffO8fDpbPo/s320/DSC00886.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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We went back to the hotel, assessed the situation, and decided to take a short break, before going west early. It was time to abandon the Northeast this year and make the best of what we had. We would return to the New York Metro area and relax for a few days in real beds, while Rob let his wound heal, making sure it didn't get infected. Being that you're reading this after the fact, rest assured that everything does, in fact, turn out ok! More on that soon... for now, sleep and recovery from the first Western, high-alpine snow hike of the season.</div>
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Klagshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13404953454187858180noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-239384151854115309.post-86084858367192856282017-06-11T08:32:00.002-04:002017-06-11T08:32:16.520-04:00A Cold & Rainy Welcome to the Adirondacks<div style="text-align: center;">
Rob and I took a beautiful route between western MA and the Adirondacks, and while we were able to enjoy a quick bit of sun and stream-side relaxation upon our arrival, it was soon right back to rain.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4DclHbCGA8s6GWkY-RIl5AXyhfR65EKNmKnn8i15aKdYinGeReZjjl2_U-Je8ADjtUNi57ynSVidcK0YKnr6AkWEM4MDdoyqISWLZ1uxOY902S4uY1ZLqPewDxl4wXDhGn7u6wIB0JCc/s1600/DSC00712.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4DclHbCGA8s6GWkY-RIl5AXyhfR65EKNmKnn8i15aKdYinGeReZjjl2_U-Je8ADjtUNi57ynSVidcK0YKnr6AkWEM4MDdoyqISWLZ1uxOY902S4uY1ZLqPewDxl4wXDhGn7u6wIB0JCc/s320/DSC00712.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhf2rEfnfgmsIWcRQZxAn567SCxGTyMUBwQ5PFj7A0lXazHjBRszM66ruXQE4ewde7tkAeNxEBKVZrJuCur6TJrvtBFI7Cst_oBP06EulTyavpHb7GyVHtxFncyUh1eoGqnz1hmMB5Jkg8/s1600/DSC00717.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhf2rEfnfgmsIWcRQZxAn567SCxGTyMUBwQ5PFj7A0lXazHjBRszM66ruXQE4ewde7tkAeNxEBKVZrJuCur6TJrvtBFI7Cst_oBP06EulTyavpHb7GyVHtxFncyUh1eoGqnz1hmMB5Jkg8/s320/DSC00717.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKfaModulW_ok18vsQqWBuH2459r1_rzdwXRWm88Xj-xn44oZG9eFxOdKKxZN0RID8zIiQ5SeQXbrmvzURS7akg8U1C4LM8JOgP0-PXjqIy9UdLDh1bUP4Pjd6SINrUEFYKbim2T3D6Us/s1600/DSC00726.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKfaModulW_ok18vsQqWBuH2459r1_rzdwXRWm88Xj-xn44oZG9eFxOdKKxZN0RID8zIiQ5SeQXbrmvzURS7akg8U1C4LM8JOgP0-PXjqIy9UdLDh1bUP4Pjd6SINrUEFYKbim2T3D6Us/s320/DSC00726.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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The fishing was also still not incredible. While we began to see more active fish, overall the fish were still holding low, under rocks, and generally just not yet that interested in feeding.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxvhmSQrGCy-hoWG5S6a0Wxwu3nAYkipL2VAESHzhNny722Cnr9duqloO7-KzAftK17N77bBNKyXZX7jmJsWUZWW7NPxHfO9CJ-vpUQAyIMsB6inyyFH4ufDM1z6zDukBtRQGmoKXsBuo/s1600/DSC00725.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxvhmSQrGCy-hoWG5S6a0Wxwu3nAYkipL2VAESHzhNny722Cnr9duqloO7-KzAftK17N77bBNKyXZX7jmJsWUZWW7NPxHfO9CJ-vpUQAyIMsB6inyyFH4ufDM1z6zDukBtRQGmoKXsBuo/s320/DSC00725.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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We found plenty of false morels and probably could have committed some days to hunting for the real thing nearby, but I had no idea what trees to cover up here, and we felt we had enough Morel success this season that we'd just pass that idea by. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgV8e4sKhC1iUOPbuUp-El3VqQa3EuQNYOCxx12U3KsqKZmjmtH8AAhB_KW0Q-39MsBF0Wgs1KX3IkQNXOUpxsE__0u2p381t2-V23riymNzrECZqc4th5YXr6cfpasDftSQK7UF15iu_U/s1600/DSC00727.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgV8e4sKhC1iUOPbuUp-El3VqQa3EuQNYOCxx12U3KsqKZmjmtH8AAhB_KW0Q-39MsBF0Wgs1KX3IkQNXOUpxsE__0u2p381t2-V23riymNzrECZqc4th5YXr6cfpasDftSQK7UF15iu_U/s320/DSC00727.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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Maybe one day I'll learn to identify dead Elms, but for now, I have no idea how to find them. Other than that, there doesn't seem to be one obvious kind of tree to check in upstate NY, rather many...</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHlr9M7wc52095iTsTsOeJ3u4JLuvpaQnF2W4d1UpIbZQMkDgG99oP_O1yYC054kvHIQ6dTsS5WDZKJX3VzFCp6XzaKUK2-x_QZlZsOxl0M7Rku6YW-sUzfYWrtsVcZs2KTciJO-rT5Tg/s1600/DSC00728.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHlr9M7wc52095iTsTsOeJ3u4JLuvpaQnF2W4d1UpIbZQMkDgG99oP_O1yYC054kvHIQ6dTsS5WDZKJX3VzFCp6XzaKUK2-x_QZlZsOxl0M7Rku6YW-sUzfYWrtsVcZs2KTciJO-rT5Tg/s320/DSC00728.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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We fished a few random streams, and then I managed to catch a few smaller trout on our first day on the Ausable. Usually I clean up in that section... as I would end up doing a few evenings later.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTjsK7c9sR3AhtktK_1f4wadook1Qg8tCQ_lEpw1IApcZmwSA0SFd2jV0kDJCimieOOXAN5IAbwsGXEjvwLH4KW8l6E2yUYbbXEo4PyDmA_o_hx3lCxMx4gyxJxSatSE8h9Nrchz7N9fo/s1600/DSC00705.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTjsK7c9sR3AhtktK_1f4wadook1Qg8tCQ_lEpw1IApcZmwSA0SFd2jV0kDJCimieOOXAN5IAbwsGXEjvwLH4KW8l6E2yUYbbXEo4PyDmA_o_hx3lCxMx4gyxJxSatSE8h9Nrchz7N9fo/s320/DSC00705.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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We camped at the Wilmington Notch Campground first, and then on threat of plenty more bad weather, moved to a "cabin" at the KOA which ended up being a Home Depot-style garden shed with two beds, a window, and an electric heater. The "mattresses" were coated with some kind of waterproof vapor-barrier and the whole experience was pretty shoddy.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpFs3YiL-ly8WZapRgKWwtipYkjtCf0O1TJYIoCJYJfCA0Q746jh9Vr2OTvJDxXKZc_1sO-UAMD3h8zuf7X_O2Y0EC7aqgaVnz9utWriz-QITusRfdP6Eu1fyUoLnCz-vQWRDgKiGUBOI/s1600/DSC00732.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpFs3YiL-ly8WZapRgKWwtipYkjtCf0O1TJYIoCJYJfCA0Q746jh9Vr2OTvJDxXKZc_1sO-UAMD3h8zuf7X_O2Y0EC7aqgaVnz9utWriz-QITusRfdP6Eu1fyUoLnCz-vQWRDgKiGUBOI/s320/DSC00732.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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Given that the fishing wasn't great either, we decided to do some hiking before preparing for our first backpacking trip into the high peaks.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhN4Qt094IYewIKui7ecQBpn1zJkyfViBtZ9AW3Zft-YrnsxdT2KozqVsAHSz4-qUOsm2VVxnMvj3ApxXcJI0swF3PJV03Mm_uRQLa4v_MiCKFWPJB3OMQmmYL5xUR5_Tc2-ahnhoAOG5Y/s1600/DSC00733.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhN4Qt094IYewIKui7ecQBpn1zJkyfViBtZ9AW3Zft-YrnsxdT2KozqVsAHSz4-qUOsm2VVxnMvj3ApxXcJI0swF3PJV03Mm_uRQLa4v_MiCKFWPJB3OMQmmYL5xUR5_Tc2-ahnhoAOG5Y/s320/DSC00733.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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We chose to do a quick walk up Owl's Head due to the threat of more intense rain. It was a good choice, and we made it to the summit quickly. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqBQzRH_c-sAMFuxKIf245TrJ9vLvP3VZyO2KdypQXH6Y-sf8QEm8xvdN3XIsE9gsMmsZEujaEdYCpBy7hGTWW9QUolx6OrLY8PXOTV1xZRIqzO7lmYbhyphenhyphenoTm2GCIChTGIzL8Fz3i7Ows/s1600/DSC00734.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqBQzRH_c-sAMFuxKIf245TrJ9vLvP3VZyO2KdypQXH6Y-sf8QEm8xvdN3XIsE9gsMmsZEujaEdYCpBy7hGTWW9QUolx6OrLY8PXOTV1xZRIqzO7lmYbhyphenhyphenoTm2GCIChTGIzL8Fz3i7Ows/s320/DSC00734.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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The views from the area are great - you get a lower perspective and 360 degree view, but from a peak - so you can see the higher ridges and peaks all around.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiefmRee6YLCrJZL6HPCHRBuhJ0vWmh9WMuq97CdA_u-ni6wxrIlNW0lG9l0QMzsIeorF7KzWa6vIW64rjIrUKcwwFONJ4FSN4iLcbziHLs10k90jB2ZKNLTzLAytgwAqQKIXvtrmn1i7k/s1600/DSC00735.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiefmRee6YLCrJZL6HPCHRBuhJ0vWmh9WMuq97CdA_u-ni6wxrIlNW0lG9l0QMzsIeorF7KzWa6vIW64rjIrUKcwwFONJ4FSN4iLcbziHLs10k90jB2ZKNLTzLAytgwAqQKIXvtrmn1i7k/s320/DSC00735.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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There are some nice pitches for climbers, but we didn't see anyone out this time around.</div>
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After that we went to check out a waterfall...</div>
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Then I took us to a small stream I'd wanted to fish/scout, not realizing there was a nicer and more productive looking tributary that we just had to fish.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcqFbGRqLLXT0YLev-CYL8BuGfclJ86eOQSqOfMTpz5Uq5iZO2l0KLJbx4f6ZCTolRSGuDrfkndU0Pd7gZqL8XV6dmDMLt5mmhqvt3ho8wXUUcVPudSJdSjR9IPf5L05z2KuLN-hUK6cE/s1600/DSC00742.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcqFbGRqLLXT0YLev-CYL8BuGfclJ86eOQSqOfMTpz5Uq5iZO2l0KLJbx4f6ZCTolRSGuDrfkndU0Pd7gZqL8XV6dmDMLt5mmhqvt3ho8wXUUcVPudSJdSjR9IPf5L05z2KuLN-hUK6cE/s320/DSC00742.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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That stream ended up being absolutely beautiful, and the rain was light enough that we could enjoy some fishing before it really began to pour.</div>
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This was a typical high-gradient Adirondack brookie stream, complete with slots, rock-walls, deep plunges, and plenty of deadfall. Trout heaven.</div>
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Not surprisingly, this stream was the first to really fish well for us. We each grabbed some small ones, but the pouring rain followed soon after. The larger brookies were still holding deep.</div>
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On the way back to the hotel, we stopped to fill some Growlers at the Beer Castle in Keene. I hadn't noticed this spot before, but I'm really glad we found it this time around. They had some Grimm bottle releases, a few really great IPAs - one I particularly liked from Sloop. Check this place out if you visit the area. </div>
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Next on the agenda, I wanted to show Rob a few sections of the High Peaks Wilderness, poke around for some high elevation brookies, and cover some truly back-woods trails that get less human traffic than the more popular Eastern High Peaks zone. More on that coming soon.</div>
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Klagshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13404953454187858180noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-239384151854115309.post-74498503776753835812017-06-09T21:51:00.001-04:002017-06-14T23:41:20.769-04:00A Muddy Adirondack Spring - Santanoni & Panther Peaks<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
Being that it was almost memorial day weekend, it was time to get into the woods and away from the bigger holiday crowds near town and in the most popular areas of the high peaks.</div>
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The Santanoni range makes for a perfect destination in this situation, and we planned to camp back in the wilderness and away from the main campsites. Of course, it was raining as we met up with some of the other Peak Enjoyers from past stories here... Derek & Zane joined us in the afternoon at the lot, and we headed in.</div>
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After a short walk on a private, gated dirt road, we arrived at the wilderness trailhead. The first crossing was easy, and we noted it looked fishable. We didn't fish though... the rain and the hike ahead were more front and center at the moment.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggsrbwCiY-yFZEUTWFcNHjpNS9JHID95vLd-OMvFOpwczvwoOHAdTZumoYeQJuXfODm5gUyL6tjoF3XOeDgCY9RH5_LdSzz5rW-fdA5Qy9wMLvK7i56K6VsfkjVLX9IDReVhDC-bMYNC8/s1600/DSC00773.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggsrbwCiY-yFZEUTWFcNHjpNS9JHID95vLd-OMvFOpwczvwoOHAdTZumoYeQJuXfODm5gUyL6tjoF3XOeDgCY9RH5_LdSzz5rW-fdA5Qy9wMLvK7i56K6VsfkjVLX9IDReVhDC-bMYNC8/s320/DSC00773.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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The rain was not too heavy and for some moments, even stopped. However, a fresh shower or misty cloud would blow by to remind us that yes, in fact, the rain is falling this year. The second crossing was more gnarly, with the bridge in need of complete repair. </div>
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Soon after, I noticed a strange white slug on some fungus. I have seen thousands of slugs up here, but never and large white ones.</div>
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The trail follows a stream that looks rather fishy, but we didn't try to fish it until relatively high up. I got nothing. Likely the fish in this area were wiped out a long time ago, and have not or cannot make it back up above this many waterfalls.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcSqI7WPrWuKSMTroe4z0EGIZ5VAsGNID-kEa1bkTBH4j6wCKKIUYKn2fLFRBH1TZlHpqWORgE3n11zOYu0UgZw4sOeYW3g5VnCifIihwWdAgRTF9YFneL8n65D52DhmScKHsThstDLf8/s1600/DSC00779.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcSqI7WPrWuKSMTroe4z0EGIZ5VAsGNID-kEa1bkTBH4j6wCKKIUYKn2fLFRBH1TZlHpqWORgE3n11zOYu0UgZw4sOeYW3g5VnCifIihwWdAgRTF9YFneL8n65D52DhmScKHsThstDLf8/s320/DSC00779.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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Those waterfalls and pools were beautiful and provided a great backdrop for a couple of rest-stops and water breaks.</div>
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There were some newer plank walkways through the path, but not enough of them in the muckiest places. The Santanoni area is known as one of the muddiest and wettest of the areas, and this was a truly wet season to add on top of that.</div>
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For the most part, we made good time and arrived at the junction to the Santanoni trail with some time to spare. We decided to camp up high in a campsite we had seen on the last hike through the area.</div>
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A funny sheep-shaped tree required a stop for a pose...</div>
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... and lichen coated the stumps and fallen wood all around us.</div>
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We had to gain a little bit of elevation before the day was over, and the mud wouldn't let up at all. Much of trail was a stream or a mess of mucky, slippery and sloppy earth that didn't give much confidence to any single step.</div>
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When we arrived at camp it was still cold, we were wet, and it was time to make dinner right away. Derek & Zane were still wearing shorts and didn't seem to care about that, but even after setting up my hammock I was in need of my down jacket to feel good. We ate a good meal and hit the sack as the misty wet air swirled all around.</div>
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The next morning I awoke to a surprising joy - THE SUN! There was water evaporating off of everything, and we had a chance to dry some things off for a moment.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpX2HTcVJ_0Yxe18Gmrit0NXFGivQ208a6X_0T1BsBnS1Q2m3fMPmuLVujLybcvi3JOdP-Ej3LhHjTYadkRvapG73AK5sGITOwwLzMIq6kUKgNY7SPXxs8XhPc4ZHRQmo8K_mzoSpTS5o/s1600/DSC00794.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpX2HTcVJ_0Yxe18Gmrit0NXFGivQ208a6X_0T1BsBnS1Q2m3fMPmuLVujLybcvi3JOdP-Ej3LhHjTYadkRvapG73AK5sGITOwwLzMIq6kUKgNY7SPXxs8XhPc4ZHRQmo8K_mzoSpTS5o/s320/DSC00794.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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After dilly-dallying around camp for a bit, we set out to Peak Santanoni & Panther around 10:30am. The climb is steep, with much of the trail in the water. The views slowly appear as you climb, but you have to remember to turn around and see them.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOiNY_7M85n50vUoqz7h54HZBj3KhphnAdmlrp8g9ADtvHfTXlwZYkbg1WXK3Vcarihn1WFX3-61UrN32F1oBxkZKjg2RsLHEqlKu5UeWdGfqHZ0qszxe2TuP2x3A14itSh-lHV4VFh5E/s1600/DSC00798.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOiNY_7M85n50vUoqz7h54HZBj3KhphnAdmlrp8g9ADtvHfTXlwZYkbg1WXK3Vcarihn1WFX3-61UrN32F1oBxkZKjg2RsLHEqlKu5UeWdGfqHZ0qszxe2TuP2x3A14itSh-lHV4VFh5E/s320/DSC00798.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuSO4F9DxhcQ_adwyP8NJ-pFwgkRedtzzKwkqJxO0MgqwfHPKt7br567XMYhB_xF1XN3qefi2tGZxc51SHf3o_jSzxNudoR2FVvytpgxHBpdd2ZFxzQxMJ3DakHiW2g7VM5KW0b4vlT3s/s1600/18700293_10158657109300328_496581014773810657_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="720" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuSO4F9DxhcQ_adwyP8NJ-pFwgkRedtzzKwkqJxO0MgqwfHPKt7br567XMYhB_xF1XN3qefi2tGZxc51SHf3o_jSzxNudoR2FVvytpgxHBpdd2ZFxzQxMJ3DakHiW2g7VM5KW0b4vlT3s/s320/18700293_10158657109300328_496581014773810657_n.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Photo credit Rob Lepczyk</td></tr>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhABQZYeKLK81ldQTUnXdXCuhr2SrO_FpG6taMka_oYzguTh1HwHfmAlAmkoqSopNEB0foN2Jx5uVv0AH04zYtDqPxjL6suHJQK6K7Mo9-IpmH4HlnfvzfbQFRmnVGgsXLjpzFYZh_8PVA/s1600/DSC00809.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhABQZYeKLK81ldQTUnXdXCuhr2SrO_FpG6taMka_oYzguTh1HwHfmAlAmkoqSopNEB0foN2Jx5uVv0AH04zYtDqPxjL6suHJQK6K7Mo9-IpmH4HlnfvzfbQFRmnVGgsXLjpzFYZh_8PVA/s320/DSC00809.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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Once you get up on the ridge, there are more opportunities for views in various directions. You can see most of the Eastern High Peaks from up here, as well as the Seward range. The view from Santanoni itself was great - I thought there was no view, so I was glad to have been wrong.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9zX1O8LqZTnJ85eLDsNJm9sQ21997oAwukuthd-P_7ZnJhuzc8FpbaDh2HjJ9xBgPPyIqlKDiLk8jf5JtXcRNd3zJBpU7t1GFL7itve0Ajdwlc40oTFpe48gc4xujC63wdNHtSVa41EA/s1600/DSC00811.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9zX1O8LqZTnJ85eLDsNJm9sQ21997oAwukuthd-P_7ZnJhuzc8FpbaDh2HjJ9xBgPPyIqlKDiLk8jf5JtXcRNd3zJBpU7t1GFL7itve0Ajdwlc40oTFpe48gc4xujC63wdNHtSVa41EA/s320/DSC00811.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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The sun was gone by this point, and it began to rain on us at the summit. We finished lunch and headed back down the ridge towards the junction with Couchsachraga and Panther peak trails.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhixmP93u_09omvZYA8kIqLMskJw6GFxgk1C9oLK8I9UE5RKqsgo3_n37H3RgcIdEUwU9bE98d1opHKDQdlqC3Rr2aN-u15QB68nzd0oUaf7770K05502P4Y9kD6-uk3KfxdIKmp9rhP70/s1600/DSC00818.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhixmP93u_09omvZYA8kIqLMskJw6GFxgk1C9oLK8I9UE5RKqsgo3_n37H3RgcIdEUwU9bE98d1opHKDQdlqC3Rr2aN-u15QB68nzd0oUaf7770K05502P4Y9kD6-uk3KfxdIKmp9rhP70/s320/DSC00818.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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We skipped Couch this time around (I swore I'd never hike it again last time,) and headed for the famous boggy path to Panther. It was in fine form, full of knee-deep holes and the classic deep muck that defines the entire area. </div>
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Carefully picking our way around the mud while trying not to damage the high alpine region is difficult. For this reason, and since I had already peaked this one more than once, I hung back a bit while the other guys grabbed the peak.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXuw4GOvnES4jtIOHe6iopgTcKAM1f7919bBvvyv__GkSiSF8Pxn8tAkcwm9pv01Df6_o410qXJAFLnEuAd4UnOnMw-Y0FqLaEPn2QlVnlGAM4XyIlamWmvNV0TYQGHh5p9x09PXJ5nME/s1600/DSC00816.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXuw4GOvnES4jtIOHe6iopgTcKAM1f7919bBvvyv__GkSiSF8Pxn8tAkcwm9pv01Df6_o410qXJAFLnEuAd4UnOnMw-Y0FqLaEPn2QlVnlGAM4XyIlamWmvNV0TYQGHh5p9x09PXJ5nME/s320/DSC00816.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEwepORrTweHxyGW5Bkqx1g4Sfw5jWW01LYUS8lQqiJnsZdk-roGGx3pixQ1pTRh9g2Y5ZH3VOiFMNV6qImL_MoTxe7cMD1nN8n0ZCtl8i9QsuifcuJNG6dqDHWT6lecI_Sp4XVgvpPVs/s1600/DSC00817.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEwepORrTweHxyGW5Bkqx1g4Sfw5jWW01LYUS8lQqiJnsZdk-roGGx3pixQ1pTRh9g2Y5ZH3VOiFMNV6qImL_MoTxe7cMD1nN8n0ZCtl8i9QsuifcuJNG6dqDHWT6lecI_Sp4XVgvpPVs/s320/DSC00817.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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After a triumphant snack near the summit, we headed back down towards camp. There was still snow along the trail, as there has been in this area at this time before. I was almost surprised not to see more, but there had been more rain than snow over the last few weeks, that much was clear.</div>
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Back at camp for the evening, the sky cleared a bit and we got a nice sunset view from the ridge. Unfortunately, the camera couldn't quite capture it in full beauty, even though the image does evoke the feeling of the moment quite well.</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9-t9MgAl8SxF4KW1lIpGOpn8_zpbyhEGP94EB4TxuQ0IpQz7XsSnucBANAaB7Ihc6FOOdFI5Ue_vV1bXZxfOHzdARy4h-M39ADd6Is2Z-yevP9CtP8sQdrrXdqal98jAO0F6pPh_uIQU/s1600/18767952_10158657109815328_6363107187109610839_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="960" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9-t9MgAl8SxF4KW1lIpGOpn8_zpbyhEGP94EB4TxuQ0IpQz7XsSnucBANAaB7Ihc6FOOdFI5Ue_vV1bXZxfOHzdARy4h-M39ADd6Is2Z-yevP9CtP8sQdrrXdqal98jAO0F6pPh_uIQU/s320/18767952_10158657109815328_6363107187109610839_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Photo Credit Rob Lepczyk</td></tr>
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That night was an early night, and the next morning was an early rise, as we had planned to hike about 8 miles around and back to Henderson Lake to find a campsite.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixZGRxCH7ReR9khnqPnCTi_GlLEu8dZ0LTdJ6gIu_ONnIZdwTo5_VsAuJPOzsiItTsizPwf7_mUqMBlWFnnOYOZcMxb1OLRdBlkGhZEJE8ybiJUQYluB8wnXaDWftvcyfAkcEmAa41SAw/s1600/DSC00834.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixZGRxCH7ReR9khnqPnCTi_GlLEu8dZ0LTdJ6gIu_ONnIZdwTo5_VsAuJPOzsiItTsizPwf7_mUqMBlWFnnOYOZcMxb1OLRdBlkGhZEJE8ybiJUQYluB8wnXaDWftvcyfAkcEmAa41SAw/s320/DSC00834.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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The Sun was out again, and this day looked a little more promising than the previous day in terms of the weather. The trail was still a stream though, for most of the day.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhitWrWxS3cxoJd2xhR2wjZlW45rphJG3LHWja_01a-HQ-xx2e6IJLPqaf66S68P_A2XXp3U4j4O7iSvQ7aNgrNN_4jahyphenhyphenfSwr-yZZN5j-3r4LHyu4JUHilC7ePkQNT3g_m1g0V8jWBsWU/s1600/DSC00839.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhitWrWxS3cxoJd2xhR2wjZlW45rphJG3LHWja_01a-HQ-xx2e6IJLPqaf66S68P_A2XXp3U4j4O7iSvQ7aNgrNN_4jahyphenhyphenfSwr-yZZN5j-3r4LHyu4JUHilC7ePkQNT3g_m1g0V8jWBsWU/s320/DSC00839.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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There were hundreds of newts around, and we constantly had to watch for them on the trail. Luckily they are bright orange and easy to spot.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMyazmGFDueAtc0qP-s7TEqO75s-RXmCbT5IwvWzAae2XWuambMv0rSm17Prx-pSC0yFlmuOCYoRoGJx2dgXwcBJqQS4zIOpf3r85yOL5FNWV0zwleeiBDdD-x_65uPb3akAjaJvmatgg/s1600/DSC00846.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMyazmGFDueAtc0qP-s7TEqO75s-RXmCbT5IwvWzAae2XWuambMv0rSm17Prx-pSC0yFlmuOCYoRoGJx2dgXwcBJqQS4zIOpf3r85yOL5FNWV0zwleeiBDdD-x_65uPb3akAjaJvmatgg/s320/DSC00846.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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Inside this hole I saw a toad peeking out, and I learned that there was such thing as a toad-hole in the moss. Is this where they all live when we can't see them?</div>
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Along the trail, we found a bit of a puzzle that we had to solve. There were many spruce boughs and tree tops lying around areas that didn't have the same kinds of trees. It became apparent, after some investigation of the area and repetitive finds, that these had been blown here by the wind. Just crazy!</div>
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Back at Duck Hole we had to ford the Cold River. The bridge over the old dam is gone, as the dam collapsed and hasn't been replaced. Its nice to see nature reclaiming much of the area, and we ran into a DEC volunteer back there who was clearing some of the blowdown and checking in on the trail. Devil-Dog, if you're out there, you missed a few trees on the way back to Henderson Lake, dude! ;)</div>
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Meanwhile, we were making slow time this particular day, generally lallygagging and enjoying the views, as well as the sun. It hadn't rained yet! We covered a lot of ground before it began to drizzle. Luckily that didn't last long at all, and we made good time on the last few miles.</div>
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I had never travelled this section of trail before, and it meandered through old ponds, streams and then what appeared to be the backside of the mound of earth that makes up Wall-Face. We circled around to Henderson Lake, back up towards Wall-Face, and the backcountry campsites. We found a small site and set up a tight hammock camp, barely working around the tight trees to find a good spot.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjarUkjGXnraLNC5M20386brnZfAVUavVZU5_zkcSH7UY9zj4qRak2ykXwYn-XRAfFBQGXVpTvSWb4iwqvHXQQ31v_jqSnM4Rr0_pDshhwE86dMzcHtGHmcFHnD4ZxpuQdYxXIKLRLTsss/s1600/DSC00860.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjarUkjGXnraLNC5M20386brnZfAVUavVZU5_zkcSH7UY9zj4qRak2ykXwYn-XRAfFBQGXVpTvSWb4iwqvHXQQ31v_jqSnM4Rr0_pDshhwE86dMzcHtGHmcFHnD4ZxpuQdYxXIKLRLTsss/s320/DSC00860.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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The next day we woke up to threatening clouds and the cold winds that signal a shift in the weather. Storms were brewing, and we raced to pack up camp before the rain hit. Just on cue, the rain began to fall as we broke camp, and we hiked back in the rain. I didn't take my camera out to photograph the morning, but there wasn't much to show - just more rain. We had a hot meal in town and said goodbye to the other peak enjoyers, heading to a hotel to do some laundry, get clean, and plan another backpacking trip, this time into the Eastern High Peaks zone.</div>
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Klagshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13404953454187858180noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-239384151854115309.post-2808475337061240852017-05-30T22:14:00.000-04:002017-05-30T22:14:04.165-04:00Moving up through Massachusetts<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
Slightly frustrated by the early season conditions and coinciding with a tear in my ultralight hammock body, we took a break from the fishing to hit Mohonk for a day of hiking. It was a beautiful day. The sunniest and warmest of all so far... a bit too warm even. But I didn't complain.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhriFmjNUcvWw2KAgQr3AoZBoT0pQpNvmsbuLVg_wRuSRdDrkjqz46nMX2nszzPUoFpnGvJedsg_k7fv75ZL-_9FAe-i08Rh42ufhNJdiMd_j5h3LiwKe_qVVW_JQixuTvw4l2oXLYSbDo/s1600/DSC00631.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhriFmjNUcvWw2KAgQr3AoZBoT0pQpNvmsbuLVg_wRuSRdDrkjqz46nMX2nszzPUoFpnGvJedsg_k7fv75ZL-_9FAe-i08Rh42ufhNJdiMd_j5h3LiwKe_qVVW_JQixuTvw4l2oXLYSbDo/s320/DSC00631.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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Mohonk is a beautiful place on the Shawangunk ridge - a world class climbing destination and a wonderful place to hike for a day or two.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnyGTqdiWXh3UYTU5y2MNNSEFrKRZw1pe4C9Kx30XCh3kl3-BjlAX6XZH5YA-5AstzlVrOLx_Un8h04g-8gPtnQnhv4qY4c40sGgKSlljYJFAURCeIRgkdj3epuTZgOSXQZdsH6H10EJg/s1600/DSC00633.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnyGTqdiWXh3UYTU5y2MNNSEFrKRZw1pe4C9Kx30XCh3kl3-BjlAX6XZH5YA-5AstzlVrOLx_Un8h04g-8gPtnQnhv4qY4c40sGgKSlljYJFAURCeIRgkdj3epuTZgOSXQZdsH6H10EJg/s320/DSC00633.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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The blueberries were in full bloom, and the smell of the flowers, coupled with the hot evergreen trees and their needles baking in the sun, was just sublime.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqiSwP6Kak2qPcUuaVY-TgcuUhYLi7w9DPUOZedultYV2V4juDLanPGioKZ3WJJKT7zyxAAnzOWWx5oIowPiBWIPebLzp3z7UaTSqwQ0bryughtCuFFAYJBB-3AgLZLDtWQGY9SDotCYc/s1600/DSC00636.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqiSwP6Kak2qPcUuaVY-TgcuUhYLi7w9DPUOZedultYV2V4juDLanPGioKZ3WJJKT7zyxAAnzOWWx5oIowPiBWIPebLzp3z7UaTSqwQ0bryughtCuFFAYJBB-3AgLZLDtWQGY9SDotCYc/s320/DSC00636.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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After grabbing the replacement Hammock body (shout out to Dutch for insanely speedy service) we headed up to Massachusetts to find some Brookies.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPt9d70sDHUVUDuSiZunJajVLQZ6MO-wl4_TzUfF5rKQnaTgW_iOXlaGy2E7E1_oYJ0Tm3dPShyphenhyphenEA9Ne4T9OxDMr472bwekGsZ6otWAxX6krJonXmWXAe5TTHCGcDkTF0i4FER4qc1xpo/s1600/DSC00640.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPt9d70sDHUVUDuSiZunJajVLQZ6MO-wl4_TzUfF5rKQnaTgW_iOXlaGy2E7E1_oYJ0Tm3dPShyphenhyphenEA9Ne4T9OxDMr472bwekGsZ6otWAxX6krJonXmWXAe5TTHCGcDkTF0i4FER4qc1xpo/s320/DSC00640.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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The first stream was a real winner as small streams go. Epically beautiful, steep, tumbling trout water. I hooked into a few fish but failed to land any of them. I'm not sure what happened but for whatever reason it just wasn't meant to be.</div>
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This place should have been a slam dunk but again, we were early. It was still cold and high, and for whatever reason, the fish just weren't really into it.</div>
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We fished a number of other streams around the Deerfield and Cold Rivers, without much success. A nibble here, a small brookie there. Where the heck were the fish? It made no sense. Years of successful spring fishing had us scratching our heads on this odd season.</div>
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At least the views didn't disappoint. It was an adventure. And the rain kept falling. We spent some time in a hotel, and this is becoming more of a reality as we attempt to cycle between car camping, backpacking, getting gear wet and dirty, and then trying to get it clean again. Such is life.</div>
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Sometimes we even felt like we were in Japan... the scenery surely fit, as did the weather! (It always rains when I travel there.)</div>
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The water was powerful but none of the streams were truly blown out. This only added to our general confusion. Why weren't the trout coming out into their feeding lanes? Odd.</div>
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My feet were cold a lot, which tells me that the water was colder than normal. Were the fish just holding down later than usual?</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghCADNwHgkiEWxnQOk1HWQKTPSo-Ifm7vQijBMbrmlJ0wqDc36JkvlXEzkygdWzFdezyNcOBRVImGJIxV3lemBQU5MQDzItxETxskbXUIbquhf5oHTvF_cFLb5Zld9fPBPBiRqbb-GBtE/s1600/DSC00658.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghCADNwHgkiEWxnQOk1HWQKTPSo-Ifm7vQijBMbrmlJ0wqDc36JkvlXEzkygdWzFdezyNcOBRVImGJIxV3lemBQU5MQDzItxETxskbXUIbquhf5oHTvF_cFLb5Zld9fPBPBiRqbb-GBtE/s320/DSC00658.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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After fishing, we took some time to visit a piece of land my family has near Charlemont. It is beautiful woods up there, with a nice mix of spruce and evergreen. The black flies were out, but the cold mostly kept them at bay. What a treat to walk the property for a bit. It makes me proud to feel that my family can steward this land, which is in fact protecting a few forks of thin blue line that form the headwaters of a tributary to the Deerfield; essentially preventing the land from being logged regularly or developed. I hope the brookies flourish below... unfortunately the fishable part of stream is all on private land that I have never been able to access. Maybe one day.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiiXXv91SRzhXeBrMniuKv0f1doXMgLKRivQzkr5vUmHVUsnZQyFSed4ZFaIs9PKV5-ewIVawrbwZjVYWPv4Orws7ft2dLybhcgP0Ms9HZG80qLKogN38mVaiOZT4WF4D2kVRnKIg-g9SI/s1600/DSC00661.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiiXXv91SRzhXeBrMniuKv0f1doXMgLKRivQzkr5vUmHVUsnZQyFSed4ZFaIs9PKV5-ewIVawrbwZjVYWPv4Orws7ft2dLybhcgP0Ms9HZG80qLKogN38mVaiOZT4WF4D2kVRnKIg-g9SI/s320/DSC00661.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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The newts were everywhere, and we had to be careful not to step on any of them. </div>
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The following day we paid a visit to a newly conserved piece of land that surrounds a truly fine trout stream. There is public access but its a steep walk down and we presumed it kept many fishermen out. We did see some boot prints from the previous days however, and this time, actually did not even get one single bite.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhb3HRk88jEkSrOufyz28HAr-2Evl_mJ4tTlfWkytnnJXGcmMQN1Z9FISGC9sb4Rx_7fZHiIKCoTgQo7FJUR4-ed42o6Q8s4DhmgnP6zIkHZS490x3ID7jOtH24CGViT3s6qV5m-Bga66Q/s1600/DSC00681.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhb3HRk88jEkSrOufyz28HAr-2Evl_mJ4tTlfWkytnnJXGcmMQN1Z9FISGC9sb4Rx_7fZHiIKCoTgQo7FJUR4-ed42o6Q8s4DhmgnP6zIkHZS490x3ID7jOtH24CGViT3s6qV5m-Bga66Q/s320/DSC00681.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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I was starting to really lose it, and I think Rob was even more frustrated than I was. How can a couple of skilled fishermen spend a day at a place like this without even a bite between the two of us? Just nuts.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjKoRvIfX-ykighapfONLLFo3bnwcRQd3tqPwEL-fJ8RACv2KESpn56B3bkzWtuzrRILQh6OtYuUi4nz0EvlBp0GgMsvOA13ZySsO8cnJ2dQigtzBIqGtuCPOX9b49-LLeTDJWa3S9hv0/s1600/DSC00685.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjKoRvIfX-ykighapfONLLFo3bnwcRQd3tqPwEL-fJ8RACv2KESpn56B3bkzWtuzrRILQh6OtYuUi4nz0EvlBp0GgMsvOA13ZySsO8cnJ2dQigtzBIqGtuCPOX9b49-LLeTDJWa3S9hv0/s320/DSC00685.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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We discussed the need to revisit some of these spots during prime season and warmer weather in the future - we just couldn't believe in the results from this particular day as an indicator of the stream. At least I HOPE that's not an indicator of the health (or lack thereof) of these local brookie streams this year. If so, "we" are in big trouble.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrOfybdBireQoB5W5wsLLRUeuaxebUbHRYX2EzDW1R1R6wIXNKB1RcV78zeqfJZCA2FMSCeAn6xJy0p4eaK98F_ZnYj2Fm1J2zrRaRcqhz19c2Qbc9M83rZytx3C40VhFr2SW3iE5J_Qg/s1600/DSC00688.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrOfybdBireQoB5W5wsLLRUeuaxebUbHRYX2EzDW1R1R6wIXNKB1RcV78zeqfJZCA2FMSCeAn6xJy0p4eaK98F_ZnYj2Fm1J2zrRaRcqhz19c2Qbc9M83rZytx3C40VhFr2SW3iE5J_Qg/s320/DSC00688.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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Irene did a real number on this area, and I hope that wild trout populations are recovering. They should be, at least by now. I can't blame our experiences on that... we researched a bit and found studies that totally verified population resurgences in other areas heavily damaged by Irene.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhP8roD7el9rZl0nvAnLLTFzF0i2I0SoVCenqMOKXa5rnfk3Xyto1wNX3UnXP_eWRYuNHOEB9B5aYtOW74FtDoX9UHQoFrSJJak_4fCMFBnt_02ol_HA3NXsMK0Fo0yAs7nwZc1y09vK0/s1600/DSC00691.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhP8roD7el9rZl0nvAnLLTFzF0i2I0SoVCenqMOKXa5rnfk3Xyto1wNX3UnXP_eWRYuNHOEB9B5aYtOW74FtDoX9UHQoFrSJJak_4fCMFBnt_02ol_HA3NXsMK0Fo0yAs7nwZc1y09vK0/s320/DSC00691.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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We decided to walk away skunked without getting all flustered about it or spending any more time re-fishing the best spots. It just wasn't meant to be on that particular day. The walk out was also beautiful - we followed a tributary back up to the main road, passing an aging barn soon after. This was the quintessential New England experience for me, and I was only sad to have not put any larger beautiful wild trout in my net to go along with it this time around.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisYJgHahm_gJU-OrrJ4i5JR_UgdGs3tLadvhcvYyc9JE418YJCgnmxBzF0DKpMkFuLS6CdgUxf8WQPgu-3O2j6IkU3Q-hIeLOV4wrIAASNp8acuccLRiKJV4pO-8XwCdaLINs4TkEoc2M/s1600/DSC00694.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisYJgHahm_gJU-OrrJ4i5JR_UgdGs3tLadvhcvYyc9JE418YJCgnmxBzF0DKpMkFuLS6CdgUxf8WQPgu-3O2j6IkU3Q-hIeLOV4wrIAASNp8acuccLRiKJV4pO-8XwCdaLINs4TkEoc2M/s320/DSC00694.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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Luckily, there's always next time. With that in mind, we said goodbye to MA and embarked on a back-roads route through southwestern VT towards the Adirondacks. And the rain continued to fall.</div>
Klagshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13404953454187858180noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-239384151854115309.post-62339871063865765372017-05-29T23:19:00.003-04:002017-05-29T23:19:41.339-04:00Exploring the Catskills Backcountry<div style="text-align: center;">
Rob and I decided to take advantage of the rare good-weather window and a couple of above-80-degree days to hike into the backcountry, along the headwaters of a popular trout stream.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfoII2TtCDpjP02spc_5iARWOKJQ2TYwKlfwLC0_dR2UNKSFUo_Vc3O_J8pAc8C0cNH87NPS_P6NBfuE43mnhASwLhT68is0yGAbb69cXLWPFBoKBjWG0WE1hHPetZRTsJ4yWycXCvfpk/s1600/DSC00600.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfoII2TtCDpjP02spc_5iARWOKJQ2TYwKlfwLC0_dR2UNKSFUo_Vc3O_J8pAc8C0cNH87NPS_P6NBfuE43mnhASwLhT68is0yGAbb69cXLWPFBoKBjWG0WE1hHPetZRTsJ4yWycXCvfpk/s320/DSC00600.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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There are many such trout streams in the Catskills, most of which are almost entirely privately owned, stocked, mis-managed and generally off limits to the average angler relying on public access and public land. Its hard not to let these realities color the otherwise emotional and beautiful experience of driving or walking these rivers. Luckily the very upper headwaters of most of these rivers are on public land, and we are able to hike and explore them, even if we can't catch those legendary 18" brookies that used to swim these waters before we decimated the habitat with our "magic human touch."<br />
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Hiking in to an overnight in just such a place comes with certain unsettling moments, like when you discover relatively fresh bear scat sitting in the middle of the trail not 15 minutes into the journey. However, thanks to a nice tributary just down the trail, it was somewhat easy to forget about the bear scat for a little while. </div>
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There are some hidden ponds and we crossed the outflow from them as well. There were very small brookies in all the tribs we crossed.</div>
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In fact all the water looked good. But it only held a few small fish that we were able to catch. I don't know what to blame on the low numbers I have found here often, given this beautiful area, but it surely has something to do with stocking patterns on private land downstream, and lack of protection for the native fish in their headwaters. How it could remain legal to keep even a single brookie in a struggling headwaters area like this is just mind-boggling. Especially after spending so much time in the Savage River state forest in Maryland. New York seriously needs to take a look at how that area is managed and think about what we could have here if we did things differently...</div>
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Regardless of these feelings and thoughts of concern running through my head, this area is extremely remote and hauntingly beautiful, and it made an impact on me as it always does.</div>
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There was plenty of Trillium, a flower I've come to associate with healthy trout forest areas, and spring time.</div>
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We got back pretty far into the area, looking for an old primitive campsite marked on the map... however, it was not so easy to find. Just as we finally located the farthest campsite - the one we had been looking so intently for - we came across this second, much fresher pile of bear scat. Clearly the bear was in this area, moving in the same direction we were moving. Time for a change of plans.</div>
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Turning around, we went back in the opposite direction of the bear's "scat-jectory," and camped at an earlier site, which was also not so easy to find. I was happy to set up my hammock away from what appeared to be the travel path of a decent sized bear. We opened some beers that we packed in and settled in for the evening.</div>
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The next morning marked what was the first actually rain-free day we'd had in the woods in weeks. What a relief and a joy. If only there was a little more of that going on...</div>
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The situation was pretty ideal, with perfectly acceptable air and water temps. But that didn't seem to bring us much in the ways of actively feeding fish... something both surprising and disappointing in this kind of water at this time of year.</div>
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That didn't stop me from having a fantastic day, but it sure made me think hard about what New York could be doing to improve this situation. And I thought of a lot of things that could be done. It is somewhat defeating to feel relatively certain that there will never be more protection for these areas and fish here, though I couldn't help but to hope anyway.</div>
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As we got higher up we finally got into some more fish, but they were all tiny, and I felt bad catching them at all, so I stopped fishing and walked behind Rob for a while.</div>
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This river could and should hold a large population of wild native brookies. Instead what we found (and what I've also found before,) appeared to be a ridiculously over-fished, possibly poached and unbalanced stream with only tiny fish and lots of evidence of abuse; including illegal campsites with fire rings, trash, worm containers, and a couple of old frying pans and rusty grill grates. That's right, not one, but TWO frying pans left behind. Well I say screw you, whoever you are. I am by no means against killing fish once in a while in healthy watersheds, especially stocked fish. But eating wild, native fish this small in areas this important to a native fishery is just absolutely insane tom-foolery at best, and complete and inherent disregard for the environment and the ecosystem at worst. Needless to say I scattered a lot of rocks and we packed those pans out to the garbage - where they belong!<br />
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Given the situation with the fishing, as well as the growing population of black flies, we left the area a night early and hiked out to the car. I hiked these miles in and out of the area in my Simms Rip Rap wet wading shoes. Its a bummer they redesigned them with thicker soles this year, these older ones are probably the best wading shoe for what I do that I've ever found. </div>
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I inadvertently caught a nice photo of all the black flies near the car, and was soon after eaten alive.</div>
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The drive out reminded me of what life was like here a century ago, and I'm happy that there has been little development in the area... I hope it always remains this way.</div>
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Soon my outrage and disbelief related to the trout population faded and I was able to soak in the surroundings calmly once again. It was sad to leave the area on this note, but we had more places to be, and not enough time to be in them all. Such is life...</div>
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Klagshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13404953454187858180noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-239384151854115309.post-75460241852973601252017-05-25T17:06:00.000-04:002017-05-25T17:06:03.192-04:00We are Still the Rain... Neversink 2017<div style="text-align: center;">
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Before heading up to the Catskills, Rob and I stopped at my favorite local trout stream to land a few browns. Conditions were tough, with high and cold water, but we each got a few fish.</div>
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Exploring another stream, we found some more trout, some wildflowers...</div>
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...and surprisingly, a few morels. You don't find these things in Westchester County, NY all that often. Exciting!</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiiei3-jhURZneh126jhcxZPUH-le7u8rDkweCta0ND1Hy6dC8H18gsisIKcPcclLFC0RmscTxNecdGcMWIMARhUe32RBubAHoKpKm19J7E7Y4ZczyR-Ax1wBcc9c16GFL4btLc900EEkE/s1600/IMG_7964.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiiei3-jhURZneh126jhcxZPUH-le7u8rDkweCta0ND1Hy6dC8H18gsisIKcPcclLFC0RmscTxNecdGcMWIMARhUe32RBubAHoKpKm19J7E7Y4ZczyR-Ax1wBcc9c16GFL4btLc900EEkE/s320/IMG_7964.JPG" width="240" /></a></div>
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Ramps were also out in force, and of course we grabbed a few for later.</div>
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Off to the Neversink River zone with a forecast for... you guessed it... MORE RAIN, we were in high spirits. We had a day and a half of sun to enjoy before it would rain non-stop for 36 hours, and additionally, on-and-off for another couple of days. Oye. </div>
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So we did the most logical thing we could and went for a nice Brookie tributary on the way. We met up with Adam R and fished our way up this beautiful stream, catching mostly smaller brookies.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjs3XOKdmBFU89b0SxixW69K46o1Bg_psa071KZ3YhVZzL_xyfoOgIGxhOeKZY2Kva91rOOwnbcB9ZedHtjBrYXKj3gInODzhuZsnDp1DT9K6nqetK1ip1TBUTUwDT6MHyCZb6k4uXqpvA/s1600/DSC00510.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjs3XOKdmBFU89b0SxixW69K46o1Bg_psa071KZ3YhVZzL_xyfoOgIGxhOeKZY2Kva91rOOwnbcB9ZedHtjBrYXKj3gInODzhuZsnDp1DT9K6nqetK1ip1TBUTUwDT6MHyCZb6k4uXqpvA/s320/DSC00510.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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This stream is about as picturesque as it gets, cascading down through a small gorge on the side of a mountain.</div>
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After getting a few brookies, we called it a day and made the remaining drive to the campsite quickly.</div>
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Given the late time after setting up camp and drinking a few beers, we fished the river along the campsite for the first evening and did quite well. Rob grabbed a 20 incher on the first cast in the first pool, and lost it at his feet. An exciting start to the weekend...</div>
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I headed down river to a spot I knew to hold larger fish and grabbed a decent 17-18 incher myself. </div>
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Heading back to the site, it was time for dinner. We grilled some ramps, steaks, and other odds and ends and dug into some cold New England IPA.</div>
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The next morning after a hearty breakfast and as a full crew, we headed into the Gorge.</div>
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Spring flowers were in full bloom and it was hard to ignore them.</div>
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The river was running high but clear. While the increased amount of water created some additional challenges for wading, the early spring conditions had scoured the rocks of most of the silt and slime that had us slipping around so much last fall.</div>
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My first fish of the day was much smaller than the previous day, but one of the larger brookies I've caught here, almost 10 inches.</div>
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I always love fishing here because there is so much excellent holding water. Some days the river delivers insane hatches and sight fishing for big trout. Other days its tougher with less magic in the air. </div>
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Even on the slightly tougher days, there are always plenty of places to take some time for a slow drift. <br />
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Sometimes you have to slow down, let the fly sink, and then swing... and then BAM! There it is.</div>
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It was hard fishing most of the day, with lots of concentration required... and that's hard when you're taking so much time to soak in the surroundings.</div>
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When it got to the end of the day there was a bit of comedy as Rob crossed the river with a "paddle" of a wading stick.</div>
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The walk in and out of the Gorge can give a great perspective as to its size... which impresses me every single time.</div>
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Back at the campsite I dug into my new favorite beer, a sour Gose from Finback brewery in NYC.</div>
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That night we feasted well and prepared for the rain... which lasted a good 24 hours straight at least. The next day we said goodbye to our friends and headed out to a new campsite and up into the Catskills proper.</div>
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I wanted to take Rob to one of my favorite small streams in the area, and there happened to be a few campsites nearby. We set up camp and then headed out to the stream.<br />
Walking down an old dirt road along the stream, we chose to drop down into this beautiful tumbling section, below. Not 5 minutes later, however, the thunder started and we knew exactly what to expect...<br />
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Rob was prepared with a beer and a strange method of drinking it while sheltered under his poncho. I was huddled under an old GoLite expedition umbrella against a natural ridge in the forest, beneath a small hemlock tree. Its funny but sometimes a good expedition umbrella does a better job than a rain jacket on a warm and humid day.<br />
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We waited out the storm as the thunder got louder, hovered over us, and then became quiet again. The rain continued to fall after the storm moved past, worrying me for moment, but the worry wasn't necessary and the sun popped out again not long after.</div>
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Taking a moment to dry our stuff in the first legitimately warm afternoon in NY so far, we remarked at how quickly moods change in relation to sun and rain.</div>
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However, even if we were in better spirits with the appearance of the sun, the fish were still being picky and playing hard to catch.</div>
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This stream holds wild brookies and some browns, and we got a few of each even with the difficult fishing.</div>
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Stopping at the waterfall, we took some light-hearted photos, and then climbed above to the second set of falls.<br />
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Walking up the dirt road back towards the campsite, we remarked about the beauty of the area and the continued turbulence of the weather and fishing. Luckily, all the makings of an incredible yet simple hot meal were waiting for us in camp...</div>
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And we weathered another evening of cold and rain and went to sleep.</div>
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The next day we headed out to do some backpacking and to fish a few more thin blue lines on the map. More to come as wifi allows :)<br />
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Klagshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13404953454187858180noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-239384151854115309.post-37990930956840521362017-05-17T22:21:00.000-04:002017-05-17T22:21:39.907-04:00Off the Road and onto the Trail in New York<div style="text-align: center;">
Rob had to go to a graduation so I took a quick break from the road back in New York. It was nice to return to daily hot showers and running water, but I wanted to keep on sleeping in my hammock. It really is that comfortable.</div>
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Rob took the train back to NY and we fished a local stream for a bit, but the action wasn't that amazing... it was still extremely cold with very high water levels. The next day we hiked Breakneck Ridge, one of my favorite hikes along the Hudson. </div>
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The hike is basically a scramble the whole way, starting with a killer set of 4-5 rock faces and then a nice leisurely ridge traverse section before descending back to the road.</div>
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There are incredible views the whole way, and I was psyched for Rob to get to see it on such a perfect day. His photos are mixed with mine in this post since I did a bad job of documenting the day, mostly due to overly focusing on the scrambling.</div>
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We had ideal hiking weather... cool, sunny, breezy, with a few clouds to throw shadows on the river.</div>
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Along the ridge we found a vernal pool with a seemingly endless number of tadpoles in it.</div>
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Even though the hike is a real challenge, its more than worth it for those with no fear of heights and the will to put in the effort.</div>
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The following day we packed up and headed up to the Catskills for a campout along the Neversink with friends. Full report to follow in the next post. </div>
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Klagshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13404953454187858180noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-239384151854115309.post-51683140885718223602017-05-01T10:47:00.001-04:002017-05-01T10:47:19.021-04:00We are the Rain<div style="text-align: center;">
The last few weeks have been all about the rain. Many of the photos I've posted have given no clue to the reality that Rob and I have been living... its been raining most of the trip so far. (I don't take my camera out in the heavy rain too often.) When one lives outside in the rain for this long, one must become the rain.<br />
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Even though the skies have been unloading, we have slept dry in our hammocks and a cheap sil-nylon tarp has kept us sheltered for cooking and downtime. And just because we didn't love the rain doesn't mean the trout didn't... they definitely did!</div>
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Water was high after a few days of repetitive wet weather, but not high enough to deter us or the fish. In fact, while the fishing slowed a bit in the main stem, the tributaries just exploded with life, and it was a welcome discovery.</div>
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Luckily for us, the rain was coming in spurts most days, instead of steady rain all day long we at least had some moments of clear skies - once in a while the sun would peak out from a sucker hole to make us feel better.</div>
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The forest clearly loved all this rain - spring wild flowers were blooming abundantly, and I've never seen as much Trillium anywhere as I saw here.</div>
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We spent some time driving down dirt roads leading to small tributaries, walking between the wet branches and dodging the early poison ivy shoots, which were now making their new presence known on the forest floor.</div>
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Sometimes we were joyful in the rain, other times less so... but each break in the rain brought smiles and some new photos.</div>
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During one of these breaks, Rob's friend Tim landed two fish in a row that would have each been fish of a lifetime for anyone in a stream like this. The fact that he got both of those fish in one run was pretty mind-boggling. I have to admit I was a tiny bit jealous... but I was also really happy to see Tim land those fish. He surely deserved them.</div>
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The fish above was legitimately 12". The fish below was about 14". That is not a mini-net, its a standard fly fishing net... and check out the tail!! The photos prove it... these large mid-Appalachian brookies are the real deal. It was relatively simple to find 8-10 inch fish, but this was another level. Amazing.</div>
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We ate well during the week, keeping a few stocked rainbows to eat, but leaving all the brookies alone. Tim had brought some amazing steaks and some mushrooms, to which we added some greens. Prepared over the fire on an iron skillet, this surely was one of the best meals of the trip so far.</div>
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In the mornings the rain would usually return, but it always brought some form of beauty along with it.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbdy6UHdyJAfR85MHwshAQWvUuaduJCB3eWhbp7XMI2RR_BlJqQBFSy0KjnnLME-h-ZnEWohCOWoyusKyyq2PpNAsCjqj15mKI_7iIaCQIwpZY5mU0wYE_61WBSAuhPw6K2xPNTDrId28/s1600/IMG_7719.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbdy6UHdyJAfR85MHwshAQWvUuaduJCB3eWhbp7XMI2RR_BlJqQBFSy0KjnnLME-h-ZnEWohCOWoyusKyyq2PpNAsCjqj15mKI_7iIaCQIwpZY5mU0wYE_61WBSAuhPw6K2xPNTDrId28/s320/IMG_7719.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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We saw spider web cups in the fields, wet with morning dew and fresh misty rain. The jack in the pulpits came up after the Trillium.</div>
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The rain also brought us plenty of beautiful wild brook trout...</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgev09wo05G3aHHsE8LxwvaycVAEFM7dvB-VGl-iOayMzIxEJsZMz-USI3SVZOsxjIBVOmpDRGxQK3xhHYBEeFPZGDPp34q8ot5XCy-2r6KPXLOUywgNnlmRAbVg7LvFtvGlrNZICWX0Q0/s1600/DSC00420.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgev09wo05G3aHHsE8LxwvaycVAEFM7dvB-VGl-iOayMzIxEJsZMz-USI3SVZOsxjIBVOmpDRGxQK3xhHYBEeFPZGDPp34q8ot5XCy-2r6KPXLOUywgNnlmRAbVg7LvFtvGlrNZICWX0Q0/s320/DSC00420.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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... red efts and other salamanders...</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQpcSBDPRzDnmWsDIr2nz01XGiYRfweCO44m8dJMAGOw7DFNchqH9QztvXQUAO4YToHH-Ng6GaLBep1JQ7ZrwgpcxdiWU3VUM-z-dQR97t-EfBn57Hb2yoewHeN8dh28qAM6LJo6sg1-k/s1600/IMG_7812.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQpcSBDPRzDnmWsDIr2nz01XGiYRfweCO44m8dJMAGOw7DFNchqH9QztvXQUAO4YToHH-Ng6GaLBep1JQ7ZrwgpcxdiWU3VUM-z-dQR97t-EfBn57Hb2yoewHeN8dh28qAM6LJo6sg1-k/s320/IMG_7812.JPG" width="240" /></a></div>
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....pheasant back mushrooms...</div>
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... and of course, what we've all been waiting for... MORELS!</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWx0QyvaBnkdMBmmBqWGUM9_RNZj5jnWTQD3fFT6BkiYqvy8mVFIurQMOitaaAeYbhOFm8N4alsJE8-FpdHdTRkGFeZ7cHucJtiTMKILku2aNYrOPFCiO2Sv1nEKsu6vfYlSdcu4XE-Pk/s1600/DSC00387.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWx0QyvaBnkdMBmmBqWGUM9_RNZj5jnWTQD3fFT6BkiYqvy8mVFIurQMOitaaAeYbhOFm8N4alsJE8-FpdHdTRkGFeZ7cHucJtiTMKILku2aNYrOPFCiO2Sv1nEKsu6vfYlSdcu4XE-Pk/s320/DSC00387.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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We knew that we were in the right area to hunt, and had spent some time the first few days looking under the appropriate trees, but it took a few extra days of rain, and then the first warm/sunny interruption in the rain to help them pop.</div>
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And pop they did...</div>
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...again and again again. Woohooo!</div>
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Focusing on the right trees with the right exposure of light at the right times of the day we were able to find quite a large haul our first day, and then more in the day following.</div>
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We had to toss many of the "rules" of morel hunting out the window as those rules had been holding us back from finding the mushrooms. Once we had our own system down of when, where and how to look, the success rate was almost unbelievable. It must be a bumper year for them right now.</div>
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The excitement was, at times, hard to contain.</div>
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I also came across a much rarer and more unique fungus along the way... one which invades arthropods/insects and evokes thoughts of the "Alien" movies... which must have based the idea of the alien infection and "birth" on this family of fungi.</div>
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The mycelium takes root in the insect and begins to turn the innards into sugars/food for the fungus - at which point the fungus takes over the insect's brain, encourages it to walk out on a limb in the open where it can release its spores; and then sprouts the visible mushroom/fungus, killing the host and turning it into a statue of sorts. I am not sure if its Cordyceps, Gibellula, or another related "alien" fungus... more research is necessary... it was extremely cool to find. If you know more about this, please feel free to write a comment about it, below!</div>
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And right below that log on the river I picked up a nice trout, too!</div>
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I have so much more to post, but for now, that's all the time I have. More to follow soon.</div>
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Klagshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13404953454187858180noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-239384151854115309.post-33006022057011304922017-04-22T17:36:00.002-04:002017-04-22T17:36:59.271-04:00Tenkara Across America 2017 Begins.... in Maryland Brook Trout Forest<div style="text-align: center;">
Its been a crazy first week on the road... the freedom of living a life of car camping and sleeping in the forest, meeting up with others along the way; and of course, sampling the local breweries and BBQ joints has been both liberating and exciting. Needless to say, there's also some serious adjustment involved when it comes to daily life... and so far we've been enjoying every minute of it. </div>
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Home has mostly been a Dutchware Gear Chameleon Hammock with appropriate quilts and tarp for the cold & rainy weather. We fished a few streams on the way to our first camping area, but for me the most memorable day so far was the second day in one of Maryland's many "brook trout forests."</div>
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After a backcountry breakfast of champions, we drove just a few miles from our campsite to what can only be called a picture perfect wild brookie stream. Game on.</div>
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Because the sun was so bright, we had to work somewhat carefully to avoid spooking fish. The good news was that they were holding relatively low in the cold spring water and we did a fine job of finding fish most of the day.</div>
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Rob crosses the stream holding a beer... expertly done, and great practice for our more serious stream crossings coming later in the season out west.</div>
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I was in awe of this place, but I wasn't letting the natural beauty distract me much... there were plenty of beautiful brook trout to present to, and only so many hours in the day.</div>
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Plunge after plunge and riffle after riffle, we drifted kebari (and admittedly even some small bead head flies) to willing wild trout left and right.</div>
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Taking a lunch break, rob made a wind screen for his alcohol stove to make some coffee. We carried everything we needed and nothing we didn't...</div>
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...traveling light on the river is great, but having some space for lunch and a few other items is key. </div>
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Truthfully, I could have made due with nothing more than the rod and some flies this day, hunger be damned... because it was one of the most fun and beautiful days on the stream I've had in well over a year.</div>
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The fish were cooperating too, which is always nice!</div>
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Every bend yielded another picturesque run or little bathtub to marvel at, as we approached to make our presentations.</div>
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Holes like the one below are why we had to bust out some beads... the fish just weren't coming up for a manipulated fly fished in the Tenkara style here. It happens to everyone sometimes, and, well... sometimes you also know there's a "trophy brook trout" down there and you have to do what it takes if you want that fish.</div>
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I got that fish. Too bad the photo is washed out in the bright light.</div>
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Standard wet wading gear "hard at work" in USA:</div>
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Is this not a stream that we've all dreamed of in our wildest small-stream dreams?</div>
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Sometimes its hard to focus as I let my attention drift from the fishing to the beautiful surroundings...</div>
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We found many fossil-laden rocks along the banks and there was plenty to observe in them by focusing on the small details... shells, mini sand dollars, and more.</div>
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The wildflowers were out in force, and while a gentle green carpet had begun to coat the forest floor, we were a bit early for the mushrooms we were also hoping to find on that day.</div>
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As the shadows became long and the angle of the light changed, alerting us that the final hours of light were at hand, we found a few more nice spots to fish before turning around.</div>
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Rob caught what I considered to be the fish of the day at the last run here.</div>
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I thoroughly enjoyed the walk out as well, taking in the scenery from new angles and with the altered perspective of a hiker rather than a fisherman.</div>
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There was some kind of old trail and bits of old road that intermingled along the edge of the stream, which made the walk out easier than expected.</div>
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Back at the campsite, we filled the snowpeak fireplace grill with wood charcoal, loading on top of it a few choice menu items that we could not wait to devour in haste.</div>
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After dinner we tied flies (and admittedly some bead heads too) and prepared for incoming rainy weather, as well as another week of Tenkara fishing in Maryland's brook trout forests.</div>
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Klagshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13404953454187858180noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-239384151854115309.post-6695691001812351102017-04-16T21:50:00.002-04:002017-04-16T21:52:46.944-04:00Spring has Sprung and a new Adventure Begins!<div style="text-align: center;">
Life has been hectic in a good way recently... moving out of the city, putting everything into boxes and choosing what to bring along with me in order to live out of my car and on the trail... for the next 5-6 months. But before I got on the road, I hit a few local streams near the city.</div>
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The little wild browns were doing a good job surviving a fast-growing carpet of Didymo.</div>
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The colors on some of the fish were more vivid than others, and the spot patterns varied widely. Sometimes I wonder if there are different strains of browns in each stream.</div>
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Many of the fish were small, but a few were decent size for a little stream life this one.</div>
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Some interesting rock formations created the few deep pools on this stretch. Sometimes fish pod up here, but they also spook easily in full sun.</div>
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I managed a fish out of the pool itself, and missed another at the riffle up top.</div>
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Working my way up stream I found a few more trout willing to take my fly.</div>
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I still had some packing to do for my adventure, so this was a short afternoon jaunt into the trout forest... and a successful one.</div>
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The day ended much as it began, with a view of a place that feels more wild than its suburban surroundings suggest.</div>
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So as this year's road trip & adventure begins, I say goodbye to my familiar local waters; looking forward to new experiences that lie ahead and the promise of new freedoms, a fresh perspective and each coming day.</div>
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Klagshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13404953454187858180noreply@blogger.com0