Bahamas...Day 4

Aaaah Day 4.
Every trip is likely to have a day like Day 4...Just hope you don't have more than one.

We woke at predawn and the wind was already clipping.  I couldn't tell if the lack of light was the hour or the cloud cover.  By launch time the sky was partly cloudy.  That would become "mostly" in a few hours.

We started fishing shortly after leaving the dock.  It seemed that all three guides knew that the day was going to erode quickly as they all cut engines and started poling a few minutes after departure.

We went some time before seeing a fish and I don't recall whether we got a shot at it and blew it or if the fish took off too quickly.  One thing was apparent, the tide was moving in fast and by mid morning the fish had full access to the mangroves.  A place we couldn't reach them.

CA got the skunk out of the boat at around 10 am.  I hooked another but it tore hell into the mangroves and popped me.

We took a break for lunch and poled around the lee of an island to get out of the wind.  By now the sky was gray, the wind was still bucking and we weren't seeing bonefish.

I reeled up and suggested a plan "B".  Kay, the nicest lady you'll ever meet and the head cook at the lodge loves to eat pan sized snapper.  Greg, CA and I held a brief council and decided that the day would be better spent trying to bring some fish back for Kay.

Greg knew a few spots and the snappers were happy to chow down on our flies.  By 4:00 we were headed back to the dock.

To the surprise of nobody, the other two boats were already moored when we arrived.  The story was the same from all.  No light, stiff wind, high tide, few fish.

CA and I grabbed a Kalik and our 8 wts and headed down the shore to the big dock to try and tempt some more snapper.  I got delayed sifting through some flotsam and by the time I caught up with him,  CA had landed a beauty of a gray snapper.  For my delay, I picked up a Cuban beer bottle from the 1940' or 50's to add to my Bahamian bottle collection.

Each clutching our own treasures we made our way back to the lodge.  Dinner wasn't quite ready so I headed up the hill behind the lodge with my camera to try and get some shots of the resident vultures.  It was worth the time.   There was a full flock of them and they had no discernible fear of me.

After dinner, I poured myself the last glass of Gray Goose vodka that Sidney had sent out to the island for me.  It was a "Thank You" gift for designing the lodge logo after my last visit here.  I emailed him the logo after that trip and wasn't sure if he'd gotten around to using it.  When Greg picked us up at the airport the first day, I was happy to see the logo embroidered on his shirt.
It's always great to see your designs getting used.

Not a great Bonefishing day, but a good day, nonetheless.

Colorado

It was a 15 hour drive over two days with a stop in Des Moines on the way in and Omaha on the way out.  My wife, my two daughter's and the Dog of Thunder were all in on it. 

My wife and I decided over the past few years that the Great American Road Trip was worthwhile and something we wanted our kids to experience.  It is, of course, a different experience than I had back in the late 70's and early 80's as a kid.  Our kids never ask, "How much further is it?"  Mainly because they just access google maps on their phones between Youtube videos and snapchat exchanges and figure it out for themselves.  I had originally intended for them to be unplugged and watch the lands of our country roll by through the back windows but the techno-induced peace and quiet that is the status quo for our trips would amaze my parents.  Trade-offs.

The cabin in Estes Park was a real cabin.  Wood floors with dirt tracked in made for textured footfalls.  Sweeping loosened as much new grit as it collected.  It was perfect. 

Rocky Mountain National Park was a new place for me and it took a few days to get used to the topography.  There a lot of contour lines and in many places there are many very close together.  I'm not one for heights...or rather I'm not one to put myself in a position of an increased risk of death from falling.  My wife took a picture of me white knuckling the steering wheel on one of the many miles of roads in the park that should cause 100's of deaths annually.  She thinks it's hilarious.  I was just trying to keep us all safe, being attentive.

We hiked and climbed and rode horses and saw the sights.  We found some good places to eat (Scratch Deli and Bakery in Estes Park...look it up) and generally eased out.  Vacation as it should be.

Perhaps the highlight of my trip was my wife's interest in going fishing.  Most evenings after a day's worth of activities, we left the kids and the dog at the cabin to watch the Summer Olympics on TV.

(OK...a "real" cabin with a TV).

We would drive the 15 minutes into the park and string up the rods.  I'm not as fascinated with trout as I once was...which is to say I didn't enjoy fishing as much as I enjoyed watching my wife fish.  Actually it was perfect.   The trout were plentiful and the water was clear.  (Which is not the same thing as saying we caught a pile of fish.)  The rivers, at least the easily accessed portions of rivers, in RMNP are fished hard.  I'm not sure I've ever seen so many fly rods on a trout stream.  The bad news was that the fish were very wary.  The good news was that by the time we got to the water most of the other anglers were done for the day.

The last evening as I stood stream-side in the cooling mountain air, watching her cast, I was struck by this:  She seemed to exemplify the first part and defy the last part of one of my favorite quotes from Norman MacLean,

"...all good things-trout as well as eternal salvation-come by grace and grace comes by art and art does not come easy.” 

It was certainly grace and art, but she made it look easy.

Out and about

Out and about trying to learn the new camera.  Forgive the lack of fish in this post...