I suppose the big winter snow is somewhat to blame. Big snow means a longer wait until the dirt is available to play on. Hey, if you can’t beat ‘em, join ‘em! When it has been Tom’s turn to commute between locations and to meetings, he found himself passing through Reno on more than one occasion. He seized this opportunity to hit the whitewater park in downtown Reno. I was all for it…much safer than him paddling alone on one of the swollen rivers…see I’m not much of a paddler…and it’s safer if I keep it that way.

This year also saw Tom get the itch to start fly-fishing. I learned to fly-fish years ago when I was in Montana but Tom always watched me fish, not really interested in participating until now. Now that waters have calmed down from the spring run-off, fly-fishing is getting really good…especially around Bishop. So if we’re hiking or doing something else near a river or pond, the fishing gear comes along.

What really sent us over the edge though was the trip to NY. To spend several days at a cottage on one of the Finger Lakes, constantly in the water…was a blast. Imagine the shock to our system to come home(s)…especially to the desert of Bishop. We missed the Iceberg, the trampoline, the Waverunner. In the many hours we spent travelling home, we talked about how much we missed playing in the water…how our activity focus changed once we left the Bay Area years ago. I grew up waterskiing, swimming and playing in the lakes and rivers of the Sierras. I couldn’t find the enjoyment in the ocean that I always felt in fresh water. Tom…his time spent kayaking, windsurfing and wakeboarding had dwindled down to nothing. Granted he wasn’t complaining much as we wouldn’t be the dirtkids without a other outdoor play options but nonetheless, we missed one of the outdoor elements that can be so fun to play in.

In a fit of insanity/inspiration, we decided it would be a good idea to get some toys that would get us both back on the water regularly, together. Seadoo. x2. These aren’t the jetskis we grew up knowing…these are like little boats. And these little boats have an epic journey coming in October when we spend a week exploring Lake Powell in southern Utah.

About a week ago, Tom and I hopped on a red-eye flight to make our way back to New York. We hadn’t been back to visit NY since we met in 2002 and were long overdue.

Diane picked up Tom, Dan, Karen and I in Rochester on Friday…lots of sleepy eyes in that car ride! We started with a visit to the U of Rochester to watch Spencer give a presentation as part of a summer learning project. It was entertaining to see high schoolers act out skits and try to take in all the information that lies before them.

Following the presentation, the entire family met at the nearby cemetery. This whole trip originated when Tom’s grandmother passed away at the beginning of this year. Tom’s parents wanted the whole family to come together over the summer as a way of celebrating Tom’s grandparents…we’d all enjoy the cottage Tom’s grandfather built and has passed through the family. As part of the memorial service back in January, each of the grandkids had contributed a story or a few words to be spoken as part of the service. Tom’s parents wanted those thoughts to be revisited now that the whole family was present at the graves of both grandparents. After all the stories and goodbyes were read, there wasn’t a dry eye. After a few pictures together, we all headed out for some food together and to make our way to the cottage on Honeoye Lake.

It was early evening by the time we were all at the cottage and not a minute was wasted to get into the water. We quickly changed and enjoyed the balmy temps on our way to the water trampoline Tom’s mom rented from the local marina. The Iceberg was coming the next day…

The next 3 1/2 days were spent with countless hours on the water…wakeboarding, sailing, jet skiing, swimming, paddleboarding, tubing, playing on the trampoline/iceberg. It’s been a long time since Tom and I spent that much time in the water and had that much fun. When not in the water, everyone relaxed with beers, cocktails, food and stories to share. Neighbors and old friends of the family stopped by over the course of our visit to say hi and share a few laughs.

We departed on Tuesday afternoon to make our way back to CA, others were leaving at different times. Although the trip home was brutal (17 hrs of travel, layovers), it was well worth it to see everyone. We look forward to the next family gathering at the cottage…in the meantime, a few pictures…more to come when Drew, the master photographer, sends them our way. I didn’t spend much time taking pictures…I was in the water!

I moved to Montana in 1997 and took a fly-fishing course at the local college…my old boyfriend was an avid fisherman at the time and Missoula was at a river confluence which made fishing easy to do after work. I’d hop on my bike and ride down to the river with the dogs and fish until almost 10pm (benefit of being so far north in the summer). Fly-fishing really was a way of life in Montana.

Once back in California and the Bay Area, I lost touch with fly-fishing. Too far to the rivers and if I was driving all the way to the mountains, other activities took priority (yes, mountain biking). My fly rod travelled with me to Alaska in about 1999 but the trip again had other priorities and fly-fishing wasn’t the focus. Occasional backpacking trips also saw the fly rod make the trip but rarely used. After I met Tom, we backpacked in the Wind River Range in 2003 and I caught several small trout at a lake we camped near…Tom was begging for fish tacos. His enthusiasm for me fishing brought back some of the spark but we were still in the Bay Area and far from rivers/mountain lakes.

When we moved into the Sierra foothills, I started purchasing fishing licenses, hoping the proximity to the water would bring me back. It did…sometimes. The move to the foothills and home ownership overtook us with house projects, exploring and regular activities we used to only do on weekends away from the Bay.

Last year, Tom started on the hospital expansion job in Bishop and suddenly we found ourselves immersed in the eastern Sierras…also a well-known fishing destination. From the moment the season opens in April, every lake, river, stream and puddle seems to be occupied by people fishing…and most are fly-fishing. We even got Tom a fly rod and reel last year so he could learn and start fly-fishing too.

Tonight, after work, we drove up towards South Lake and dropped our lines in part of South Bishop Creek. A small pond, above 9000 ft, forms like an aneurysm on the creek. The water flows ever so slowly in and out of the pond. The cold, slow-moving water is about 3-4 ft deep and filled with beautiful Golden trout. Tonight I caught the largest fish I’ve caught since I came back from Montana. Tom is still learning and fished until he lost his fly to a snag. He then swapped his fly rod for the camera and hung out while I fished until I couldn’t take the cold water anymore. (Note to self: bring waders from cabin)

Speaking as someone who is an adrenaline junkie, who craves speed, dirt and small bits of air, I find it ironic that something like fly-fishing is so enjoyable, so peaceful, so relaxing. I can stand in the water, mosquitoes or other bugs harassing me, and completely lose myself in the moment. I hear nothing but the sound of moving water, periodically interrupted by the fish rising out of the water to snag the latest hatch victim. My eyes look for the tell-tale circles on the water where the fish has come and gone…I instinctively rotate and try to place the fly close to these circles…watching…waiting for the strike.

I’ve returned to fly-fishing…making time when in Bishop with Tom or at our cabin on the North Yuba River. I missed it.

The most obvious issue we have is fire danger. What should be a time when we enjoy being outside turns into a waiting game to see if we can make it through the summer with a fire…so far we’ve only had one small a few years ago. That being said, our house isn’t high enough in elevation to typically have thunderstorm danger…as we saw a couple weeks ago, though, the cabin is in that sort of danger!

Animals…the mice seem to vacate the attic this time of year (likely too hot) but in exchange we get lizards in the garage…oh, and they’ve made it in the house a few times. Trust me, they are NOT easy to catch once in the house. After 6 years, I still get startled when I go out in the garage and you hear things running from you. The foxes denning nearby are covered in another post…haven’t seen much of them lately but did see one of the pups about a week ago…they’re getting big!

Birds…the wild turkeys aren’t seen as often this time of year but the quail have recently hatched their litter, gaggle, herd…whatever quail families are called. Just tonight while washing my mtn bikes, the dogs nearly took out a family. After lots of squawking (from me and the quail) I got the dogs a safe distance with no casualties…phew!

Insects…after getting a new mattress/box spring delivered last week and temporarily setting things up until our bed arrives, I discover a trail of ants cruising the baseboard in our bedroom. What the hell? No food, nothing to attract them. A few blasts of Raid seems to have kept them at Bay. Side note: I can’t stand using chemicals for this stuff and found a cool, enviro friendly spray at Home Depot…mix of rosemary and cinnamon oil…works awesome!

Plants…yes, even the plants get in on the action. After a spring of trimming back grasses, there are always plants that dry out and have lovely burrs or prickers. We won’t even get into the poison oak here as that could be a whole post in itself. The burrs and foxtails have a particular affinity for McKinley’s velcro fur…every time that dog goes outside, she comes back in with the whole forest stuck to her paws, head, etc., which in turn finds their way into dog beds, area rugs, etc. Even the vacuum struggles to pick these things up. Oh, and even if the dogs don’t get into them, we manage too…socks also seem to be a magnet.

I have countless other examples I could mention and on occasion try to remember what it was like to live in a suburb, where the nature challenges are inherently less…and when I remember, I smile…so happy to be here…

The World Cup is almost over and it’s been a challenging few weeks juggling work and watching/listening to the games streamed over the internet. Thank you www.espn3.com for streaming all the games…if only other networks would take such a bold step to keep us in touch with our sports (ex. Olympics??!?!?!). Soccer has always been the love of my sporting life. Many of the people in my life, places I’ve travelled, stories I have are all a result of years of playing soccer. Safely in retirement, my sporting life is now dominated by two wheels.

The Tour de France…yes, it’s a road bike race but on two wheels nonetheless. Each day currently starts with a review of results, recaps, etc. from the action each day. The sound of Phil Liggett’s voice is like music to my ears…

Stanley Cup playoffs…ok, a little late on this one, I’m no longer playing and technically the playoffs are over before summer starts. If the Sharks aren’t playing my interest dwindles.

Wimbledon…yes, I’ll admit, I secretly wish I’d played tennis…love the sport! Not entirely sure why as it’s nothing like the other sports that interest me.

Yes, baseball is an intentional omission…doesn’t interest me and I found it pretty boring to play.

Then again…there’s the new mountain bike movie I just downloaded. What was I talking about?

Friday we scrambled up an abandoned mine trail to the Hilda Mine, which is just above Sierra City. The mine has been bulldozed and is entirely invisible at this point. My guess is that mines on forest service land are actively closed when no longer in use but BLM lands (typically of the area around Bishop) don’t spend much effort managing such mines…who knows? Anyway, the trail itself was beautiful, albeit straight up, and looks like a good option for future biking…

Exploring on two feet affords some amazing chances to see details otherwise missed when moving along the trail faster but just isn’t quite as exhilarating as travelling on two wheels. We took the opportunity to explore more of the trails the Forest Trails Alliance has been working on…they are simply amazing. It wasn’t until later last night during the fireworks show in Graeagle that the grins from riding were wearing off.

Happy Independence Day!

Despite my enthusiasm for exploring remote, less travelled areas, the fewer people the better, I am occasionally guilty of missing the internet. I’ve never been one to watch much TV, which has been reinforced by the fact that Tom and I only have TV service in one of the three locations where we split our living time. All three locations do have land-line phone service and internet service. The land-line phone service is a necessity for a couple of reasons, two out of three locations have spotty or non-existent cell phone service and more importantly, since I work remotely and regularly participate in conference calls, need to fax, etc. having a land-line becomes important.

So, it was with great frustration that I arrived at our cabin last Thurs night, after a week of driving back from Bishop, shopping for a couple weeks worth of groceries (I’ll get to that later) and loading a trailer with a bed and other items and then driving to the cabin…only to find that our phone here has no dial tone. Oh, and this is the only location with no cell service…of any kind or provider. Since we have no dial tone, we also have no internet connection. It was after 9pm and I needed to at least call Tom and my parents (who helped me load the bed, thanks!) to let them know I’d made it to the cabin ok. The drive to the cabin is relatively remote and sparsely travelled on weeknights, so it’s always good to check in. My saving grace, I guess, is that there is a pay phone at the little store in town. Now can anyone actually remember the last time they used a pay phone, not including travelling abroad??? Me neither. I felt like an idiot trying to read the fine print on the phone about how to make a credit card call. I call AT&T first but of course I’m looped into automated answering system hell. The soonest a tech can come out to the house is Monday. And my appointment window? 8am to 7pm! What the hell? I calm down slightly and make my necessary calls, the last one being to my boss to let him know I won’t be online or available by phone Friday…that I’ll try to make it to cell reception to do a half-ass e-mail/voice-message check.

My first thought was to head back home but it was late, I was exhausted and we were having a debris box delivered Friday to clean up our “yard” of pine needles and leaves for fire season. And Tom was coming Friday night to spend the weekend at the cabin. We also plan to spend a long July 4th weekend here (hence the two weeks of food and no, there are no stores…the nearest true grocery store is at least an hour away).

The lack of phone line has been particularly brutal. We were trying to coordinate riding with a friend Saturday, so I had to call Friday, from another town 20 miles away where I have a cell signal, and come up with a plan since we had no way to contact each other. Then there was no way for me to check on Tom’s progress on the way here…was he ok? Running late? Stopped for food? Nothing, zip, nada. What’s worse is that the first US game of the elimination round of the World Cup was on Saturday and no way to watch, stream or even know the score (by the time I post this, I’ll obviously know the outcome.) It’s Sunday night and again Tom is on the road…with no way to check in. It gets better…the pay phone in town now isn’t working so I had to drive over the mountains to get a cell signal. Dare I ask what happens next?

Smoke signals, carrier pigeons, pony express, morse code, telegrams…geez, I don’t know how people did it. I’ve gotten so dependent on technology, even if just the ability to make a phone call, that I’m not sure what do without it.

Update: AT&T has obviously now fixed the issue, turns out critters gradually chewed through the line but according to the tech it was time to replace the line anyway.

If anyone needs a refresher on how to use a pay phone, call me. Oh wait, you can’t…

She’s some sort of mixed breed (husky/malamute?) and supposedly part wolf…most who’ve met her would agree. I’ll save all of her crazy adventures for another time but her ailments thus far have been limited to foxtails, cuts and ticks…oh ya, and the time she lost the end of her tail…no really, she ripped it off! Just last week, she hiked the eastern Sierras. She’s slower, has less energy, is a little more clumsy and her hearing sucks but if the dog still wants to go, she gets to.

Happy Birthday McKinley!

McKinley still cranking along

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