A little fishing a little bushwacking

I met Jeff Tuesday morning to check out Upper Creek near the Linville Gorge. He had fished the upper section just downstream of the lower falls by himself a couple of weeks ago when I had to bail on him last minute due to some home project chores. He said that he was fishing near a church-bus group that was raising quite a ruckus and had heard about a trail to a lower section a mile or so downstream. We both planned on just a half day outing but ambitiously thought we could fish the whole section all the way to the falls and so we ran the shuttle and jumped off at about 8 a.m. on the trail to the lower section.






As you can see the scenery was incredible. We were deep in an isolated gorge for the entire time. The water was cool but felt good wet wading. It was a seemingly endless display of small runs and riffles with a nice smattering of big pools every three or four hundred yards. We started catching fish right away on bushy dries. Most of the sections gave you one or if lucky two shots at a fish. They would strike on the first or second cast and might even chase a second presentation but let's just say that we missed alot of fish.
















But about an hour in Jeff cracked the code with his freakishly large and gawdy cicadia pattern. His first cast into a decent sized run brought at least three or four fish out of hiding at the same time all trying to kill this thing. A few casts and missed strikes later he pulled out this beautiful brown. I quickly tied on a chernoble ant and we were on terrestrials for the remainder of the day.




Even the fishing spiders had figured out that this was the place to be



The day was beautiful. The stream a dream and we made slow progress up stream as each run and pool contained many fish to tempt us. A few hours in we decided to attempt to make more headway stopping only at the most tempting pools and runs. The wading was great although the rocks were slicker than snot. I had on my wading boots with studs and felt while Jeff had a decidedly difficult time wading in his Keen sandles.






We were still catching and landing little browns and brookies from three up to 8 inches. We missed some nicer browns but pushed on. The shots below were the last two fish I caught for the day in the same hole. I had been having trouble with the calm water pools. I kept spooking the holes on my first cast and then chasing fish up to the head of the pour in unable to entice them. In this last hole I was able to set up my cast by first casting downstream getting the right amount of line out and casting up to the head of the pool on the first go. The reward was a twelve inch rainbow. The shot below with my hands outstretched has the fish actually in the water in front of me after I dropped him while Jeff was setting up the shot. So I turned back to the hole and did it again and on the second cast caught the smaller rainbow in the picture below. I tried for the hat-trick but it wasn't meant to be.

Shortly after these shots we made a much more urgent attempt to move upstream. As pretty and inviting as the stream was wet wading was not a very efficient mode of travel when trying to cover some ground. Not to mention the very slick rocks we were moving over were constantly threatening to twist and sprain ankles. Finally Jeff found a small trail that paralleled the stream with some flagging tape and we immediately started making good progress. But almost as soon as we started moving we lost the trail and then ended up in the second part of our adventure. The Upper Creek Death Bushwack. The next few hours had us battling our way through rodo thickets and steep slopes. Mind you we were also hiking with fully strung rods. After two hours we finally gave up and broke down the rods to make the incessant rodo groveling a little more manageable. By the time we reached Jeff's car my shirt was completely soaked with sweat and I was definitely toast. We had originally planned on a half day outing figuring we could get out by 1 at the latest. We reached Jeff's car at a little past three. A nice little adventure to end my official summer on and a must do albeit with some slight alterations.

"Gorge"ous Day Out

Jasyn and I got out to the ampitheater for a couple of the tried and true stellar routes. The Daddy and the Prow. Due to a lazy morning start and having to be back for Carter's last swim lesson we had to cut it short of the tripple crown, though we looked long and hard at either the Mummy or the 5.7 Sister Seagle to the left. The Daddy was in the shade until the top but we did bake a little on the Prow. We had the whole place to ourselves for the entire time passing a party fo three on our way out just past four o'clock. Here are some of the highlight shots.

Jasyn starting out and on the first pitch after the scramble on the Daddy.

The Ledge before the top of the Daddy.

Looking over to the prow and Jasyn on the first pitch of the prow.

Back to Center...

We've been back from our Western Road Trip for about two weeks now. We had a great time hanging out with family and friends along the way. Check out more details at the family site. A few highlights aside from good time spent with my Grandma, Mom, and brother were our first visit to Moab and Arches National Park. There was a ton of snow in Colorado and the temps were still on the chilly side. Good thing we'd all only brought one pair of pants each for the trip. Hanging out in Frisco at Amy's brother's vacation house both ways was stellar. It actually snowed on us while we were there the first time. We did do some fun short hikes with the kids at most of our stops. Carter is a great hiker and really pulled out all the stops during our second time in Frisco when he hiked up to Mt. Royal overlooking the town. That was a pretty serious uphill slog for a four and a half year old. Arches was fun as well with short hikes out to some of the formations that the kids seemed to really get into.

The big awakening on the trip for me was the complete lack of motivation to do any running. It's not that I could blame this on anything but myself. I just started to realize that there were choices to make. I'm sure Amy would have watched the kids if I had really wanted to run, but I also wanted to get out and do some fishing as well. In short it would be pretty selfish to expect her to just take on the kids all by herself several times each day. So instead I chose to fish and just hang out as a family in general. We were on vacation. Another factor was that I didn't really have anyone there to share a run with or help stay motivated. By the time we reached Ogden I was feeling pretty slothful and vowed to get back on the stick of running. However after a paltry 30 minute run our first day there I couldn't seem to be able to psych myself up for it. Enjoying my coffee in the morning while Amy went out for a walk or a jog was just too nice to give up. As we worked our way back into Colorado I found myself wistfully looking up at the mountains wishing our timing was different and that we were able to indulge fantasies of climbing some of those peaks. Alas we just didn't have the time or maybe I'm just making lame excuses but whatever the reason it just didn't happen.

As we came back across the flatter midwest and finally home, there was alot of processing going on. The trip felt strange and awkward and Amy and I both struggled to put our fingers on the reasoning behind it. The conclusions I have come to deal with a slight imbalance in this past spring. There was running and almost nothing else. I was able to get out and climb with Jasyn a few days after getting back to Boone. It had been over a year since I'd been on the rock. We just did Hindu Cush at Ship Rock but as I was laboring through the awkward crux I was realizing just what the imbalance had cost me. I'm not saying I regret any of the accomplishments in the past year. I am recognizing that they did not come for free and that the cost of a well balanced mountain life is a hefty price to pay for them. I'm obviously no super man and in order to run distance it takes a fair amount of time commitment to train and prepare. I learned much in the process probably most importantly that it is not in me to get out of distance running what I get out of other activities and so it is time to shift back to balance. It's time to do some more climbing with good friends. It's time to go fishing so that as Jasyn put it, " We get to have a good time without dieing." It's time to do a trail run because it's fun not because it's part of training for something bigger and better. It's time to stop comparing the height of our mountains with those we came across on our trip and create my own adventures in my own back yard. There are plenty to be had. And most importantly to find those adventures that can be shared with my family which are equally plenty.

Morning Masochism

So I decided to try and hang and train with the big dogs the last couple of mornings. We met at Valle Crucis to run the Cub at 5:30. Did I mention I'm not really much of a morning runner. Actually I'm more of a warm cup of coffee on the front porch kind of morning person. I've always been amazed at Steve's and then subsequently Shack's ability to get up that early and then work out. So I figured it was time to try and step up to the plate.
Yesterday morning was surprisingly not that terrible. I actually felt awake and energized by the beauty of the predawn in what would be a great day. We started off and I was very impressed by Shack hanging with us on a pace quicker than his usual. He was with us until about mile four and then Steve and I pulled away together on the hill. When we crested out at the cemetery and turned back to pick Dave up he was already turning onto the final hill stretch and looking pretty strong. We joined up on him and all ran the last section. Then SHACK ATTACK, Dave starts accelerating up the last hundred feet of the hill up and over the rise and into the downhill. I was in cruise hill climb mode and he totally dusted me. I had to race to catch up. We finished just under a ten minute pace as OSTAF was pulling into the parking lot. All in all a nice run to start the day with and of course the cocky thoughts began to flow. Before I could stop myself I was suggesting the same thing this morning.
All day long I was feeling that run and beginning to wonder if another was a good idea. That afternoon Amy reminded me it was supposed to be raining and nasty. Steve and I talked on the phone and avoided the very tempting cancelation to wait it out for the morning. 4:45 came way too early this morning, and the sound of water running through the rain gutters only made me want to roll back over and go back to sleep. I dragged myself out of bed and got my stuff together. The drizzle was very light and mostly just overcast. After meeting Shack and riding together through town it started to rain. But when we pulled into VC it had stopped. Steve rolled in and despite all feeling rough we headed out.
I was flagging in mile one. We started out at around a ten minute pace Shack again hanging tough. After a mile or two the pace quickened a touch but I felt slower. Again Shack was with us until the hill. This time Steve tested at the cemetery and just as we were turning around to pick him up Shack was cresting the final rise. What a monster. We regrouped and headed into the downhill together. I was beginning the final fade now. As we turned onto Broadstone and the final half mile Shack opened up a 50 yard gap on me with Steve by his side. I started to try and do a mild increase but he was still accelerating. I had to sprint to catch up to him by the Mast Store Annex with 100 feet to go and it turned into a three way foot race. We ended up finishing two minutes faster than yesterday thanks to Dave. I don't know how he does it but he is obviously built for distances greater than seven miles.

Zircon

VC 25k

A beautiful day to suffer. What a fantastic race. Beautimous weather, sunshine, cool breeze, challenging course, and of course diabetic drama. I picked Steve up so he could get a bike ride in after the race without leaving a vehicle. All was good until the pre-race test. 280 while a great score in sports such as bowling is not a number I think Steve was excited to see on the glucose monitor. We started the race all full of ourselves during the first mile of gently rolling creekside running and then the hill began. Apparently just having a blood sugar of 280 is pure joy in and of itself but when you add a nice anaerobic sustained climb for 2.3 miles well then it's just ectasy. Ninja plowed through the hill. At mile 3.3 we hit the first crest at Rominger Rd. Steve's test was 260. Not exactly good news. A short recovery period and we were climbing again. He was hangin' tough though and in fine stoic form it was easy to forget just how uncomfortable he must have been. A test somewhere between the aid stations showed a miniscual drop to 240. At this rate of decline he would still be around 180 at the finish. From here though the course was a gradual descent. We were actually able to catch the group that passed us at the second aid station. We would subsequently pinball and yoyo between this group of about 6-8 runners for the remainder of the course. Steve started to feel better and the course floated by as the views became more and more impressive. At the second aid station Steves test was 140. A drop of 100 points in just over twenty minutes. Let the roller coaster ride begin. He started eating shot blocks. By the third aid station at mile nine manned by a former student and her Mom, Steve's plummeting blood sugar had stabilized at around 114. Keep in mind he would have to eat shot blocks continuously just to maintain this level. Nothing quite like feeling like poop, running up hill, and then crashing mid-course, and having to force feed yourself gooey cheweys like it was your job. Around mile ten we hit the river road. The long gradual uphill on rough gravel. We picked up a chocolate lab who paced us the remainder of the run a solid 4-5 miles of playful energy at my side. Into the final aid station Steve tested and remained just above 100. He crammed down a whole package of shot-blocks six gummy squares plus power aid. Then we rolled out with a clear mission of recatching and passing the group that had just sailed through ahead of us. And catch them we did just as we got to the sneak hill on Watauga River Road. The cliff shot I had taken at mile nine kicked in here along with some inner drive as the grade increased. I geared down and it felt like I floated the last hill pulling just ahead of Steve. Of course at the crest I was looking down at not quite the downhill I had been hoping for. The lab stayed with me and I managed to stay out in front of the people I had just passed. I saw a woman about 2-300 yards ahead of me finishing strong and was very content to come through the finish line by myself. Steve was not far behind. All in all a beautiful day. Steve and I cooled down a little before he took off for his "light ride" up through Willow Valley. All in all a great run. I can't begin to tell you how nice it was to run with a friend for most of the course chatting away enjoying the views rather than singing lame songs to myself in my head to try and maintain sanity and avoid thinking about how stupid running fifteen miles really is. Sorry Wayne! Kudos to OSTAF for Off The Couching it. Yeah great idea to ride 25 miles the afternoon before ha ha. Although I don't know if I would have been able to finish a fifteen miler in 6 hours under your self imposed training regimen. I still say you would have been better off with a couple of frosty carbo-beverages and nachos. And you still think you're not sure if you could handle a marathon??? There's no question in my mind.



Dressed for the event






















Just passed past the second aid station





















Two goofballs at the mile nine aid station. Steve cramming down shot blocks

















Our lovely mile nine aid station volunteers look on as Steve psychs himself up for yet another gooey chewey.

















Now show me great internal angst and self loathing!!!

Zircon's Tiki Doll AKA Low Boy Incarnate

So my friend Dave's alter ego is LOWBOY. He has plagued Dave incessently throughout his life's battle with Diabetes. One of my students gave me this TIKI doll a few years ago (I'm still not sure why). Perhaps they thought it went well with the Hula Girl sitting on my filing cabinet for most of the year. All I could think of when I looked at it was the Brady Bunch episode where they go to Hawaii and have the cursed TIKI doll that gets them into all kinds of trouble. That all changed when I started hearing and experiencing Lowboy moments working with Dave. Granted I have yet to see LOWBOY in all his awsome power. I get the occasional hint of a former glory every now and again, but since Dave has started training seriously for Ironman Madison with a couple of other suspect characters, LOWBOY seems confined mostly to jokes and references to this doll. Perhaps he has been condemned to ride out eternity in this cheap knock-off of Polynesian art. Let's hope so. LOWBOY is trapped most of the time in the top drawer of my filing cabinet the place where all the "Emergency Snacks" live. It seems a fitting place.

Zircon...

Discovering the Power of NO!!!!

Gracen has recently expanded her working vocabulary by a single albeit impressively powerful word. It is surprising the number of practical places she has applied it. Brother touching your favorite baby stroller??? NO!!!! Gets moms and dads attention and they get him to leave it alone. Pesky Daddy trying to get you to cram down one more good for you bite of veggies??? No No No!!! gets Mom's attention and she gets Dad to leave you alone. Of course there are times when it doesn't work but the times when it does are so much more memorable and do a wonderful job of reinforcing the use of the new word. Being at a primarily single word vocabulary does have some limitations. Like when you want to do something. But then Mom and Dad are pretty good at interpretting the subtleties of the less than emphatic no, or maybe we just force the issue for good measure from time to time. The NO is not to be outdown with the other latest discovery of the ability to produce an ear piercing scream from deep down in the diaphragm. I think this discovery came initially from a squeal of delight that got her to experiment with her capabilities. No she can punctuate her NO with shrieks determined to get Mom or Dad's attention. Ah the learning curve of toddlers :)