Coming Home

Saturday-Sunday, March 28-29: Rick and I left Tom and headed away from the Big Horn around 7:20 am under clear skies that stayed with us through the first third of Iowa. Lots of snow throughout Montana and Wyoming and, having heard reports of snow storms hitting the Dakotas, we took a more southerly route (I-80 instead of I-90), reasoning that the extra 120 miles might save us some bad road driving further north. We were probably mostly correct in this assessment, but not perfect. East of Des Moines, the wind and snow started creating dicey conditions. The last third of the trip home was slow—probably averaged 40-45 mph—and nervous making. We counted at least 70 cars in ditches along with a couple semis overturned in the median. Finally made it home late morning Sunday after 25 hours on the road: safe, tired and glad to be there.

This has been quite an adventure for me. It seems as if I’ve been gone forever. And yet, now that I’m back, it feels like a dream, as if it happened outside of time. It’s a trip I’d been dreaming about for a long time. I’m glad I finally did it. I’m also glad to be home. Thanks to all who’ve played a part: in encouraging me to do it, in giving me a bed to sleep in, in showing me the sights, in driving along with me, and in sharing it vicariously through this blog and via email.
I was asked by a close friend yesterday to name the highlight of the trip. It was easy: My mom and dad are both alive and well. And loving it. I got to spend time with them in Arizona and all my siblings made the trip out to see them this winter. A first! Dad gave us all quite a scare with his recent heart attack (see blog dates Feb 24-25) and their potential loss has never been more real to me. Dad has gotten a new lease on life and I have been given more opportunity to spend time with them. I have been blessed with incredible parents and love them dearly. I am sobered and grateful.

Being away from everyday routines always gives me a chance to become clearer about what matters. It slows me down and makes me question what I am focused on and how I am spending my time. It removes the fog. It reminds me that life is too short to be wasted on activities, physical or mental, that numb my own or an other's aliveness. It convinces me that I am in charge of whether I express my thoughts, feelings and dreams--or not. Today, I feel very much alive and clear. I love my wife, Beverly. I love my friends and family. I love my cats, Franklin and Starling. I love my work. I love my pastimes. I love living. As the old blues song recommends: Live the life you love; Love the life you live. Amen. Good-bye. Fare well!

Now, I resolve to go to work on being able to have afforded this! And plot more adventures . . .

Drift Boating the Big Horn

Friday, March 27: Rented a drift boat and had a very nice boat ride from After Bay to the Three Mile access. The weather was just a little too nice, apparently—sunny and warm. Managed to take only one trout at the end of the float—wading the same place we had been successful the day before. It was a nice boat ride, though, and we ate well on our store bought groceries. Our mantra has long been: We fish like fools, eat like kings, drink like sailors and sleep like babies. Mission accomplished on all fronts.

The Big Horn River

Thursday, March 26: Awoke to fresh snow, breakfasted, grocery shopped and headed for the Big Horn River, where Tom had arranged the use of a cabin (above) belonging to a friend of his. It turned out to be a wonderful place with bedroom suites for the three of us and a large common room with fireplace and amply-appointed kitchen. After failing to find an affordable drift boat rental, we focused on wade fishing. Amazingly, blue-winged olives (tiny mayflies of the Family Baetidae) and midges (really tiny aquatic flies--gnats) were hatching and a sizable pod of brown trout (Salmo Trutta) were found rising--feeding, thankfully, on the less tiny blue-wings. With large snow flakes still falling, we caught dinner. The trout--broiled with garlic, butter, lemon and thyme--and Rick's garlic/mushroom risotto made for a fine repast. Tom (left) and Rick (right) reminisced about their common Albion College history well into the night and we all marveled at our good fortune dry fly fishing in the snow. We had planned a trout dinner dependent on catching them--usually a guarantee of questionable luck even in the best of circumstances.

Twin Bridges to Hardin

Wednesday, March 25: Left Twin Bridges late morning and headed to Hardin (NE of the Little Bighorn Battlefield National Monument) to meet up with long time friends Tom and Nancy White, transplants from Kalamazoo. Had what has now become normal crazy weather all the way there: sun, snow, hail, sleet, rain and wind—often, all of them visible at once in this big sky country. Arrived to find that Tom has taken up cooking in earnest: prime roast sizzling in the oven, boiled potatoes staged for ricing and mashing, and asparagus ready for steaming. Once Nancy arrived home from work, a marvelous feast was enjoyed by all. For all Kalamazoo friends, Tom and Nancy are doing well, both in love with their work. They are most excellent and willing hosts!

Twin Bridges, Montana

Monday, March 23: Arrived in Twin Bridges yesterday afternoon via Wisdom, MT. Lots of snow there and also along most of the Big Hole River's length (the Big Hole River is the one Lewis and Clark ventured up first before deciding that the Beaverhead--marginally to the east-- was a better route--they climbed the high bluff to the left side of the photo above to make this determination). It is definitely late winter here, not early spring. Monday dawned gray and frosted-looking with a powder coat of snow everywhere on everything. With dim prospects for fishing we donned all of our cold weather clothing and ventured upriver with our assigned guide, Frank Kneeshaw, of 4 Rivers Fishing Company. Our first piece of luck was that the wind was not blowing, making mid-30's feel just fine. The second piece was a hooked and boated brown trout within the first half hour of fishing. Lastly, it turned out to be a gorgeous stretch of streamer fishing water with more cooperative trout than Rick and I have seen in some time. A great day on the water. Hooked lots of fish, stayed toasty warm (despite a high south of 40) and enjoyed the company of an excellent Big Hole River guide in Frank.

Tuesday, March 24: Another cold day, definitely colder than yesterday. 19 degrees at 7am and only mildly warmer by the time we got to the river, one float upstream from yesterday (again on the Big Hole). The guides on our fly rods were icing up for the first few hours, even when we were convinced the temperature was above freezing. It turned out to be another glorious day of trout fishing. We boated at least as many fish as yesterday, including two browns over 20". It would not be a gross overstatement to say that this was the best two days of trout fishing we have enjoyed in a very long time, perhaps ever. We are both in love with this part of Montana and had a great time with Frank. We hope to fish with him again.

The Bitterroot River

Wednesday, March 18: Picked up Rick Schmitt (above right, holding fish) at the Missoula airport. Ate dinner (fish & chips) at the English pub (Hamilton House) in Victor. Ate too much. Pulled into Backdoor Outfitters south of Stevensville, MT around 8pm. Got to bed early.

Thursday, March 19: Fished the Bitterroot from Blodgett to Tucker (river crossings) with guide, John Cook. We've fished with him off and on over the last 10 years. John and his wife, Pat (photo right), have a small ranch near the Bitterroot River with cabins for guests. It's a great place to stay and hang out. Streamside lunch locations (above left) are always chosen with great views in mind.

Got started on the river around 11:30. Good trout activity in the early afternoon, then slow. Boated somewhere in the neighborhood of a dozen--rainbows, cutthroats & browns. Nice day. Some sun, mostly cloudy, maybe mid 50's. Had pizza delivered to the cabin. In bed by 10.

Friday, March 20: Fished Wally to Angler's Roost. Bright, sunny day, maybe mid 60's. Too nice, apparently. The fish were nowhere near as active. Fewer bugs as well. Still caught some nice trout on dry flies (Skwala imitations--early season stone flies) prospecting. Not as good as yesterday, but good enough. Beautiful day.

Saturday, March 21: A perfect looking day. Warm, cloudy, calm. Floated from Tucker to Bell. Managed to catch a few trout on the surface using Skwala imitations, but saw virtually no rises and only a few bugs. Still, a very good day on the river.

Sunday, March 22: Left John & Pat and drove east in a serpentine fashion via the Big Hole River headwaters town of Wisdom, MT. Lots of snow there. Arrived in Twin Bridges around 2pm and set up in an apartment above the 4 Rivers Fly Shop. While there appears to be little cell phone service here, I at least have temporary internet access!

Port Townsend To Missoula

St. Patrick's Day: Spent last night in Port Townsend again with Sandy, Randy & Clayton--had a great visit with them both times there--then headed east towards Missoula. Thought I'd stay in eastern Washington, but nothing looked appealing, so I kept going and made it all the way to Montana. Beautiful scenery along I-90 through the Cascades, then again through Idaho. Went over 3 mountain passes, all with loads of snow--the above photo is at Snoqualmie Pass.

Steelhead Fishing on Washington Coast

March 15: The Ides. Stayed at the Forks Motel in Forks, WA last night. You may recognize the town as the location for "Twilight", the first in a series of books (and a TV series) about modern day vampires living in the rainiest municipality in the lower 48. Or you may not. I didn't. I became enlightened at the place we lunched (yummy Halibut sandwiches) out towards the coast. We ran into a tour bus full of Twilight Trekkies--probably not what they're actually called--and almost didn't get to sit to eat.

Anyway, it had rained all night and turned to drizzle by my 5:30 breakfast appointment with guide, Dan (Rooster) Leavins. The forecast had called for rain, temps in the mid 40's and 25-35 mph winds gusting over 50--just what you really, really don't want when fly fishing. Fortunately, the big blow didn't materialize. Instead, we got low 40's, rain, snow, sleet, hail, some wind--not necessarily unwelcome conditions for steelhead fishing, mind you--but no fish. Not one. Not a strike. Skunked. To quote Patrick McManus, a fine and pleasant misery.

Dan and his wife, Dayna, run an outfitting/lodging business in Twin Bridges, MT, but Dan guides here in the late winter for steelhead (rainbow trout that act like salmon). Rick Schmitt (I'll pick him up at the airport in Missoula on Wednesday) and I have stayed with them on previous Montana trips. Great place to stay, really good people.

Optional reading: geographic and hydrological details: We fished the "middle" section of the Sol Duc (a river) in the morning and put in at the "forks" of the Calawah (another river) for the afternoon. The Sol Duc seemed in perfect condition--just a bit cloudy (good)--but the Calawah water levels seemed to be dropping and clearing (bad). Pphilosophical notes: I don't hold the "no fish" day against Dan--he handled the drift boat and terminal tackle management details superbly. And he claims it wasn't my fault--always a nice thing for a guide to say. It's steelhead fishing, always a chancy matter in my experience. And Rick Schmitt's, for that matter: he had two good days in a row about 6 years ago and has steadfastly refused to ever go again.

March 16: A much better day, fish-wise. Got 4 to hit, hooked up with two and landed one. The day was schizophrenic: Snow, then sun, then more snow and rain and wind, then more sun, then cold and windy again. Packed up and headed back to Sandy and Randy's.

Seattle, WA

March 13: Sandy drove Clayton and I over to Bainbridge Island for the ferry to Seattle. Visited the Aquarium and Pike Place Market, ate seafood for lunch, did a little shopping and came home exhausted. Watched Kung Foo Panda on the tube. Fun day.

Port Townsend, WA

March 12: Left Frank and Jan's Thursday morning. A rather domestic seeming vacation day: email, blog, laundry, haircut, gym workout, bought a fly line at Cabela's. Good to get caught up. Drove around the west side of Puget Sound; technically, along Hood Canal, which isn't really a canal. Go figure. It's a very long inlet of the Sound extending south almost to Olympia. Highway 101 runs alongside it. Very scenic and curvy with steeply wooded hillsides along the west edge of the road. Both the Olympic Range and Mt. Rainier were in full view at the start of the trip; both disappeared as the woods and hills grew closer to the road.

Got to sister Sandy's around 5:30 to find her, husband Randy and son Clayton (10) all in attendance. Sandy cooked up a yummy Mexican casserole while their 3 cats, two dogs (Collies) and floppy-eared rabbit entertained the rest of us. Their youngest feline (Cinder) is a miniature replica of a white Siberian Tiger (with a nickname of Robocop--given for her tendency to attack anything and everything without fear). As with most kittens of this age, she is terminally cute with the ability to perform acrobatic, vertical jumps in the 5' range if tempted by a waving feather or anything else--or something completely imaginary.

Olympia, WA

Wednesday, March 11: Arrived at Frank Swinkey's real estate office in downtown Olympia around 11 am (it was Frank's job at Gryphon Place that I was hired into almost exactly 35 years ago. He, Ann Marston, Hank James, Syd Dulaney, John MacKenzie and Mark Keith were the 6 who took a gamble on me in spite of my less than stellar interview). Frank and I drove over to Chamber's Bay north of Tacoma, site of the 2015 U.S. Open (golf). The sun was shining but the temperature was still in the 30's and the wind was high. Still, we froze ourselves sufficiently enough to get a pretty good look at the course, a links style layout built in an old rock quarry alongside the southern reaches of Puget Sound. It's still a bit raw--just a year and a half old--but it looks as if it will be a beaut.

Frank and wife, Jan, fed me well in their home just a block away from the Sound north of Olympia, where glimpses of the Olympic Range are there for the taking when the clouds are not. The local marina supplied us with the oysters, clams and sturgeon for our dinner. Yum.

Portland Area

Tuesday, March 10: Bruce and I headed west to the Trask River, a coastal steelhead river where Bruce has a lot along the river. We planted trees to replace those chomped by local rodent residents (beavers), then headed to the coastal town of Oceanside, a hillside vacation spot with great beach and the normal craggy Pacific rock features. Again, fantastic views.

Portland

Monday, March 9: Bruce and I headed up the Columbia River for reportedly fabulous views of the Gorge, as it is called. The river is flanked by high mountains, wooded hills and sheer rock cliffs—or so I am told. The fog was so thick that views across the river were mostly non-existent. When the fog did finally lift, the snow and hail and sleet and rain were thick enough to substitute aptly for the fog. I’ll have to come back another day.

Bruce and I did manage to take a fabulously beautiful hike (during a temporary slowdown in the precipitation) up Eagle Creek Trail, just down from Bonneville Dam (the downstream-most impoundment on the Columbia River system). Eagle Creek is a crashing, crystal clear cascade—rendered emerald in the deeper pools—that has carved a severely steep canyon through the ages. The views are breath-taking and the trail is, in places, etched into the side of a cliff with no chance for survival should one mis-step. Fortunately there was cable to hold onto, else I would have been crawling instead of walking--see photo upper left.

Portland, Oregon

Sunday, March 8: Oregon: Drove from Newport to Portland through rain, snow, sleet and hail to Bruce Bonnell’s. Bruce is my same-age cousin, son of Aunt Burnie (my father’s sister) and Uncle Ed. We managed to spend enough time together as kids growing up that it seems easy to be with each other even if it has been years between visits—and it had been 5 years since seeing each other last.

Had dinner with Bruce and his son, Spencer (photo of both above--Spencer is 10 and generously loaned me his bedroom and bed for 3 nights!) and mutual cousin, Carol Niemeyer (daughter of Aunt Harriett—also sister of my father—and Uncle Clare). Carol also lives in Portland. It had been long enough that I cannot remember the last time I saw Carol. The evening was a rarity for me, being one of a trio of cousins representing 3 of the Clayton & Jennie Waterman Arnold (our mutual grand parents) children. Usually, times with multiple cousins involve funerals, weddings or birthdays where there are lots of other relatives around in a larger social setting—not an extended conversation with just a few in one of their homes. It was fun.

Northern California/Southern Oregon Coasts

March 7: Beautiful drive up the coast yesterday and today. The wine country of Mendocino County, Coastal Highway US-1 with its switchbacks and hairpin turns, way more redwood groves than I thought existed, dramatic ups and downs and the craggy Pacific coastline (in both states). Just a marvelous, awe inspiring route. The photos just don't do them justice--and yes, that's my car coming through the tourist trap drive-through redwood--it cost 2 bucks.

Friday, March 6: Northern CA

Met Kay (Niemeyer) Lieberknecht (left and providing a pedicure above right) at partner Doris' apartment for breakfast, then headed up to Kay's ranch north of Ukiah for a horse ride. Weather was cool, but mostly sunny. Her ranch is high up in the hills along a bumpy, dirt and gravel road, often only wide enough for one vehicle--and, often enough, along precipitous drop-offs. Not that you'd fall straight down if you went off; only that you'd tumble and roll for considerably longer than you'd like or might survive. Anyway, beautiful country with commanding vistas. Kay is a long-time master around horses: she grew up with them and uses them in her mental health work with children and teens. I had asked for a gentle horse to accommodate my novice standing and was given just that. I have never been around such well-behaved and cooperative half-ton animals. I felt safe and comfortable the whole time. We had a very nice ride and Kay made me feel right at home by coaching me in appropriate knots, saddle rigging and horse boot installation. After a lunch of burritos built with Kay and sister Carol's recently home made tortillas, I headed west to the coast. It was good to see Kay again.

Golf Heaven: Day 4: Old Men with Clubs

Our final day at Corde Valle dawned sunny again. We took nourishment, practiced and headed for the course again. We usually play team match play so that everyone plays against and with everyone else--6 hole matches. Today's results: Steve & Michael d. John & Jared; Steve & Jared d. Michael & John; Michael & Jared (upper right photos) d. Steve & John (below). Sorry, John--Steve and I each played our worst parts of the round with you.

Headed back to Michael's around 3pm, played a little pool, repacked and went out to dinner before heading our separate ways: John and Steve on the red-eye back to Grand Rapids, me north to cousin Kay's and Michael back to relative domesticity. As always, a wonderful golf trip and time together. The same old jokes about each other are still great, but Steve surpassed us all with new material: he "scratched" a seemingly infinite number of times playing pool; nearly drowned his driver in a distant pond after losing his grip on the 10th hole; and managed to fine-tune a "topping" tee shot on number 8 that resulted in his being able to lift, clean and place (because of the weather conditions) in the same spot as his near whiff--a net drive of 1 1/2 inches down. Way to go, Steve!

Golf Heaven: Day 3

The weather gods finally smiled on us (from left, Steve Tolen, John MacKenzie, Michael Rubenstein & me) and gave us a whole day of pretty darned good weather. Even got some sun! Our fairway home is behind us; we're standing on the first tee getting ready to start. As I said, Golf Heaven.

Golf Heaven, CA

Monday & Tuesday, March 2-3: Arrrived at Corde Valle Golf Resort (San Martin, CA) early afternoon after a morning of pool (mostly nine-ball) at Michael's in Hillsborough, CA. Rain, rain, rain most of the day. Managed to work in 9 holes on Monday before the rain got too heavy. Then played a total of 8 holes on Tuesday in two separate stints. Watched movies (we came prepared for rain), warmed up in the steam room (yes, it is rather comfy here) and played more nine-ball during the heavier rain. As you can see above, we have a quite a view out our living room/patio door. The course is gorgeous, in spite of the weather. We are surrounded by wooded, grassy foothills. The weather keeps spilling over the hills to the west, bringing more rain and a few patches of blue sky.

Michael Rubenstein, John MacKenzie and I have been playing golf together since the mid 70's; John and Steve Tolen grew up together; and the 4 of us have been playing together since the early 80's. Corde Valle has been the get-together place for the past 6 or 7 years. It allows us to stay out of automobiles, concentrate on our golf games and just chill. It's a fabulous place, to say the least.

Sunday, March 1: Half Moon Bay, CA

Stayed at Charles' and Rolo's (canine companion at right) last night. He, along with Michael and Mac, stood up in our wedding 35 years ago this fall. Good to have some time with him again. We caught up, took a beach walk, made a delivery to his kitchen wares store (Toque Blanche, http://mytoque.com/), took in a tour of Half Moon Bay, stretched out a home cooked Mexican dinner for hours and got up for a gym workout the next morning. Rained most of the time, but balmy warm. A most pleasant visit. Charles made me feel right at home.

Feb 28: Leaving Wine Country

We packed up early from our cottage in Callistoga and set about completing final errands before hitting another few wineries. Susan and I have both gotten a little burned out on the tastings, so we seem to be leaving at the right time. It's been a fun trip up here with her. She's easy to be with and our tastes in wine are surprisingly similar. I love having times like this with her. We're good buds, especially for as much as we fought as kids. I dropped her off at the Oakland Airport around 2:45 (for her flight back home to Tucson) and headed over to Half Moon Bay to see Charles.

As you can see from the photos, Susan was not often without her video camera--and it was seldom turned off. Look for me in the next round of Oscar nominated documentaries.