So it has been a very long time since my last post. To be honest, I haven't had the motivation to do it. It has gotten to the point of the summer where I'm finally feeling the grind of working six days a week for the last 4 months. It sometimes feels as though the candle is being burned from both ends leaving nothing but a hardened puddle below.
This week, we don't have very many people on the ranch, but of the 20 or so guests, all of them are fishermen and have requested guides for the entire week for both the morning and afternoons. This is the week we've been working towards. Our guiding skills will once again be tested not only in getting mediocre fishermen consistently bent, but also in our physical and mental stamina. After a summer of taking mostly half day trips, the jump into taking a week's worth of morning and afternoon trips wears on you, especially if the fishing gets tough.
Today, I took an older guy out on the stream that was probably in his early 70s. He is a retired gynecologist from Indiana who served in Vietnam specializing in the prevention of venereal diseases. Supposedly he did a pretty good job within his section of troops. I asked him how he prevented the spread of these diseases. Condoms? Nope. Abstinence? Nope. They shot these dudes with a ridiculous amount of antibiotics to kill anything that even thought about entering the badlands. I'd love to see down the road whether anything worked for these vets when they came down with a simple case of strep throat or an infection of some sort. Regardless, he had endless amounts of jokes about vaginas. I'd assume that most OBGYNs have at least one or two of those in their back pockets for the dinner table at their gyney medical conventions.
I got everything ready and finished rigging him up and started heading towards the stream at my normal pace when I looked back and noticed he hadn't moved more than about ten feet from the vehicle. I watched him slowly make his way towards my direction. I tried my best to walk as slowly as possible, but I could not match his speed and gait. As a result, I would walk up ahead and check back to see if he was still back there and usually end up waiting for him to slowly catch up. Later, I found out he had just received heart surgery and couldn't over-exert himself while fishing. Had I known that, I probably wouldn't have pushed him as hard as I did.
The morning sloooowly passed by and we had put a few fish to hand, took some pictures, snapped off and tangled plenty and had an overall good morning on the stream. We head back to the ranch and I dropped him off at his cabin and helped him put away his rod and vest and then turned to leave. He stopped me and said he wanted to settle up with me. He unbuckled his waders and flipped out the inside pocket. As he was pulling out his cash I initially notice Abraham Lincoln's smirking face staring me down. Two thoughts went through my mind. Either the bills enveloped within honest Abe's folds are Hamiltons or Jacksons or they'll be littered with George Washington's stupid face. So he asks me, "Do you get paid at all for taking out trips?" I proceeded to give the sugar coated answer that we don't get paid any of the guiding fees but get paid hourly, AKA, we get paid shit, please tip me generously. For anyone who relies on tips for a living, that question of "should I tip you?" or "how much should I tip you?" is the most uncomfortable, awkward question known to the service industry. Meanwhile, as this conversation progressed, I notice him unfolding his five dollar bill to reveal three one dollar bills. After contemplating whether he should give me the full eight dollars while asking me whether I get paid for my services and me indirectly responding that I only banked around $27 of wages for a half day trip, which after taxes is more like $24, he generously opted to give me the full $8. He shouldn't have. I was half expecting him to ask me if I'd like to come mow his lawn for 50 cents. When your making a minimum of $30-40 and upwards of $100 per trip, eight bucks seems like a slap in the face. It was almost comical, especially when returning to the other guides eating lunch. We all had a pretty good chuckle over the whole deal. I guess, I can get excited for a weeks total of 40 bucks for over 30 hours of guiding him on the river. Fantastic.
As nice as money is, I have to remind myself that I'm not doing this for the money. For what he lacks in monetary generosity, he definitely makes up for in vagina jokes.
Sunday, August 28, 2011
Wednesday, August 3, 2011
Celebrations, farewells, anticipation and fishing
It's amazing how much happens here at the ranch. Consequently, it is difficult to keep up with the documentation. For example, I neglected to write about our awesome trip to Santa Fe to see a James McMurtry concert or our many floats down the Rio Grande, our excursions to Trout Creek and Red Mountain Creek or our awesome weekend at Lost Lakes. Anytime we are not working, we try to leave the ranch and experience Colorado like it should be experienced. I'll do my best to try and keep up with all of the travels we experience.
There have been some notable updates on the ranch. My good pal, roommate and fellow guide, Jesse, accepted an unbelievable job in Seattle working for the company that umbrellas Sage, Rio and Redington products. He was flown to Seattle for the interview, nailed it and was called the day after returning to the ranch with the good news. Unfortunately, he will be leaving us earlier than expected in August. We rallied the other guides after stopping at the liquor store to pick up some nice whiskey and ventured to the top of our property on Goose Creek to celebrate and maybe do a little fishing in the process.
I told Les to hijack four whiskey glasses and some ice from the bar to better our whiskey drinking experience. It seems much more classy and better tasting out of a good glass with a cube or two instead of passing the bottle around and inevitably exchanging saliva from a saturated spout. After bringing in a half dozen fish from under the bridge, we built a fire and clinked our glasses in Jesse's honor and simply enjoyed each other's presence. It is amazing the direction conversations take when a flame is the centerpiece of a circle of friends. A certain truth and comfort is unearthed, reaching depths within that are rarely revealed. Whether it is jokes, pain, religion, politics, struggles or triumphs, our words are sincere, spoken within this steadfast circle of trust. Even though we are all excited for Jesse, it will be difficult to see him leave. He's a strong part of the team and a good friend to all of us. We wish him the best as he turns the page on this next chapter.
The nice whiskey glasses lasted for about two rounds and then the inevitable passing of the bottle occurred. I figure you should always at least make the effort to start classy. Whatever follows is neither here nor there.
Another bit of news that has been lingering for quite some time is I'm headed to New Zealand in January for three months with Les and a buddy of his from North Carolina. We had been talking about this for awhile now, but finally bit the bullet and committed. We are awaiting a good deal on flights and as soon as it comes along, consider it booked. Jesse did this trip two winters ago and said it was the most unbelievable experience of his life. He has been showing us the ropes with where to go, what to see, what to bring, etc. He also has a few connections down there for us to take advantage of. The nervous excitement is overwhelming, however, I know it is the right thing to do. When else am I going to be able to have an experience like this? Never.
Last weekend, we went to a creek, which is only about a half hour from the ranch.
We spent most of the day leap frogging all of the water. Between 5 guys on a small creek, you cover a lot of water very quickly. It's an absolutely gorgeous little body of water that holds a decent amount of fish in the 10-14 inch range. They were a little finicky at first, but once we switched to an ant pattern that Les tied up, we started getting into them pretty consistently. I was throwing a pretty large hopper pattern with the ant off of the back and ended up catching the fish of the day and probably the most memorable fish of the season for me. We were sitting down along this run that ran right along a huge cliff. It was pretty sexy water, but after fishing it pretty thoroughly, it didn't produce. Above the run, there was a large foam back eddy that looked about as good as it gets. The term "foam is home" comes to mind. I drifted my double dry rig through the foam eddy probably ten times before I saw a giant nose break the surface and my fly disappeared in a toilet bowl fashion. I set the hook to find a large chunk of a rainbow thrashing the surface and attempting to throw my fly. After a few impressive runs, I finally got his head up and out of the water and dragged him to hand.
It definitely wasn't the biggest fish I have caught this year, but it was one of those fish that from the time you casted your flies out there, to the eat, to bringing him to hand and finally being able to admire its beauty, sticks with you. It isn't always the largest fish that make the biggest impact. When I think back to this summer of fishing, that rainbow will be the first memory that surfaces and the first story I'll tell.
Until next time...
There have been some notable updates on the ranch. My good pal, roommate and fellow guide, Jesse, accepted an unbelievable job in Seattle working for the company that umbrellas Sage, Rio and Redington products. He was flown to Seattle for the interview, nailed it and was called the day after returning to the ranch with the good news. Unfortunately, he will be leaving us earlier than expected in August. We rallied the other guides after stopping at the liquor store to pick up some nice whiskey and ventured to the top of our property on Goose Creek to celebrate and maybe do a little fishing in the process.
We iced Les at fifteen bridge. He wasn't pleased.
I told Les to hijack four whiskey glasses and some ice from the bar to better our whiskey drinking experience. It seems much more classy and better tasting out of a good glass with a cube or two instead of passing the bottle around and inevitably exchanging saliva from a saturated spout. After bringing in a half dozen fish from under the bridge, we built a fire and clinked our glasses in Jesse's honor and simply enjoyed each other's presence. It is amazing the direction conversations take when a flame is the centerpiece of a circle of friends. A certain truth and comfort is unearthed, reaching depths within that are rarely revealed. Whether it is jokes, pain, religion, politics, struggles or triumphs, our words are sincere, spoken within this steadfast circle of trust. Even though we are all excited for Jesse, it will be difficult to see him leave. He's a strong part of the team and a good friend to all of us. We wish him the best as he turns the page on this next chapter.
The crew.
The nice whiskey glasses lasted for about two rounds and then the inevitable passing of the bottle occurred. I figure you should always at least make the effort to start classy. Whatever follows is neither here nor there.
Another bit of news that has been lingering for quite some time is I'm headed to New Zealand in January for three months with Les and a buddy of his from North Carolina. We had been talking about this for awhile now, but finally bit the bullet and committed. We are awaiting a good deal on flights and as soon as it comes along, consider it booked. Jesse did this trip two winters ago and said it was the most unbelievable experience of his life. He has been showing us the ropes with where to go, what to see, what to bring, etc. He also has a few connections down there for us to take advantage of. The nervous excitement is overwhelming, however, I know it is the right thing to do. When else am I going to be able to have an experience like this? Never.
Last weekend, we went to a creek, which is only about a half hour from the ranch.
A great start to the trip. The joys of 9,000 feet. You should have seen the other guy.
We spent most of the day leap frogging all of the water. Between 5 guys on a small creek, you cover a lot of water very quickly. It's an absolutely gorgeous little body of water that holds a decent amount of fish in the 10-14 inch range. They were a little finicky at first, but once we switched to an ant pattern that Les tied up, we started getting into them pretty consistently. I was throwing a pretty large hopper pattern with the ant off of the back and ended up catching the fish of the day and probably the most memorable fish of the season for me. We were sitting down along this run that ran right along a huge cliff. It was pretty sexy water, but after fishing it pretty thoroughly, it didn't produce. Above the run, there was a large foam back eddy that looked about as good as it gets. The term "foam is home" comes to mind. I drifted my double dry rig through the foam eddy probably ten times before I saw a giant nose break the surface and my fly disappeared in a toilet bowl fashion. I set the hook to find a large chunk of a rainbow thrashing the surface and attempting to throw my fly. After a few impressive runs, I finally got his head up and out of the water and dragged him to hand.
It definitely wasn't the biggest fish I have caught this year, but it was one of those fish that from the time you casted your flies out there, to the eat, to bringing him to hand and finally being able to admire its beauty, sticks with you. It isn't always the largest fish that make the biggest impact. When I think back to this summer of fishing, that rainbow will be the first memory that surfaces and the first story I'll tell.
Until next time...
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