Brendo
08-11-2014, 11:43 AM
I spent my last weekend as a full time Californian with my dad following those tiny blue lines in the sierra foothills. The water was low, but still gin clear and cold when we arrived at a nice creek that we both know well. Dad surprisingly, overcome by the early morning and babbling of the water opted to take a nap creekside. I rigged up two rods just in case he woke up early and set off up stream. Fishing was less than expected but still pretty great. The low water had these guys on edge, but crawling around and using the bow cast kept me hidden. After about an hour I decided to check on dad, he looked too relaxed to bother so I decided to venture down stream. Fishing stayed steady until mid day then I decided to call it quits.
On the hike out it finally hit me, I might not see this for a long time. Even though moving to Missoula is like moving to heaven for the cold accepting fly fishermen, the sierra Nevada's have been a constant companion my entire life. The endless hours searching for big bows on the middle fork of the American, the literal months spent on the banks of the Stanislaus staring in wonder at the Sonora pass, and even the infinite squaws and smallies caught in the dog days of summer on the north fork have made the sierras seem like less of a geographical feature and more of a friend. Feeling a little overwhelmed from all the memories I was reminded of the old Dr. sues line, "KID YOU'LL MOVE MOUNTAINS... your off to great places! Today is your day! Your mountain is waiting. so... get on your way!" I finished hiking up to my starting point to see my Dad standing sentinel at the head of a nice pool attempting to convince the bows that his nymph was edible and he was just a tree on the bank. I laughed to myself feeling grateful for such a great dad and landscape that have allowed me to create memories worth missing. on Wednesday its of to Montana to start a new adventure!
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On the hike out it finally hit me, I might not see this for a long time. Even though moving to Missoula is like moving to heaven for the cold accepting fly fishermen, the sierra Nevada's have been a constant companion my entire life. The endless hours searching for big bows on the middle fork of the American, the literal months spent on the banks of the Stanislaus staring in wonder at the Sonora pass, and even the infinite squaws and smallies caught in the dog days of summer on the north fork have made the sierras seem like less of a geographical feature and more of a friend. Feeling a little overwhelmed from all the memories I was reminded of the old Dr. sues line, "KID YOU'LL MOVE MOUNTAINS... your off to great places! Today is your day! Your mountain is waiting. so... get on your way!" I finished hiking up to my starting point to see my Dad standing sentinel at the head of a nice pool attempting to convince the bows that his nymph was edible and he was just a tree on the bank. I laughed to myself feeling grateful for such a great dad and landscape that have allowed me to create memories worth missing. on Wednesday its of to Montana to start a new adventure!
9527
9528
9529
9530