Return To Sunrise  -  Jan 19th, 2010 3:16pm

I had such a good time skiing a few weeks back, when the opportunity to go again presented itself I jumped on it.  So this last Friday after work, Alek, Kellie, Cupp and me headed back up to Sunrise.

This time we weren't going it alone.  Kyle and 2 of his friends Anhill and Harry were going to meet us up at Alek's cabin.  We would also be putting in a full day plus night as the mountain would be open from 4:30-9:30 or until people started freezing solid.  Well... most of us would anyway.  Some folks had already decided the bar in the ski lodge was a better option for the evening.

Once everyone arrived, we decided to spend the night in the most preparatory way possible - drinking a case of beer and playing Super Mario Wii.  While absurdly fun, the decision proved to be less than sound in the morning.  Fortunately, skiing is a good motivator and everyone managed to packed up their gear and get moving without too much herding.  We arrived at the mountain just after 9 for and geared up for the day.

I spent most of the morning with Alek and Cupp who was snowboarding for the first time.  We would meet up with Kyle, Anhill and Harry later.  Kellie opted for the half day and would be chilling up at the lodge until ski-school started.  Cupp did really well that morning and went from the sliding down the bunny-hill to actually snowboarding on the main mountain in just a few hours.  Learning to board/ski is rough work though - so while he and a few others took a break, I took the opportunity to get a bunch of solid runs in.

I spent the remainder of the day alternating between hitting hard runs on my own and skiing with various packs.  It wasn't long though before the day was over and we headed into the lodge to eat and throw on more clothes for night skiing.  They only shut down for about a half hour so by 5:00 we were back out on the slopes.

This was what I was here for - skiing at night and I wasn't disappointed.  Even though it was getting really cold, there was no wind and the lights on the mountain made everything look absolutely incredible.  Only a few runs are open at night but it was enough - especially since I spent the bulk of it running down the ski-park.  Harry and I kept one upping each other run after run until we were both shooting off of the full 12ft ramp and making it past the flat-top.  Unfortunately before I could get any pics or video of this, we got the call that Cupp broke his hand.

I don't think anyone was surprised.  Cupp is kind of injury prone and he was worn out long before dark.  He kept saying each run would be his last.  Eventually he headed out on his own and that's when he took a hard fall on his arm and broke the boxer bone in his right hand.  We decided it would be best to wrap it up for the night and get him to the emergency room.  So we called it a game and headed out for the Showlow hospital.

In the end it was kind of fun.  Brian wasn't injured too badly so we left him there with Kellie while the rest of us grabbed some food at Wendy's.  He eventually got his X-rays and a temp cast/sling and we made our way back to the cabin to warm up and dry out.  Everyone was pretty wiped and crashed out early.  Alek and I stayed up for a while playing one of his his psychotically complicated board games, but even this didn't last long.

We packed up early the next morning, cleaned up the cabin and went out for breakfast before making the long drive back to phoenix.  They will have night skiing again in a couple weeks - I think I'm down for another round.

The Big Sandy Shootout  -  Oct 18th, 2009 8:59pm

A few months back I randomly stumbled upon this website for a machine gun and large caliber weapons shootout called The Big Sandy: http://www.mgshooters.com.

This last weekend a small group of us spent a day and a night at the bi-annual shindig and all I can say is wow.  The daytime shoot alone was worth the drive out there, and the opportunity to see and shoot the kind of firearms they had was simply awesome.  The night-time shootout was truly epic though and I was unprepared for the scale of it all.

To get to The Big Sandy you have to drive about 3 hours northwest of Phoenix.  A dirt road just outside of Wickenburg takes you to a parking lot at the bottom of a hill where you can camp and pay either the $200 shooter or the $25 dollar spectator fee.  On top of the hill is another parking lot bordered on 1 side by RV's and on the other by the actual shooting line.  The line itself is about 1500ft long and sectioned off into 25ft areas where folks setup their guns and shade tents.  They fire off the top of this hill down into a small valley where targets are setup.

Most of the people there were shooters as opposed to spectators.  There were only a few vendors and food and water while purchaseable were pretty sparse.  This was an affair for people who really loved to shoot and you could see the pride in peoples faces as they would talk about their guns to any interested party.  Everyone I met there was very friendly with the 1 exception of the RC plane guy who cussed constantly as he worked on the planes with a set of badly bandaged fingers.

I would have expected a more militant group, but these people had as much in common with hippies as weekend warriors.  They lit off fireworks all night, played disco music at lunch (not a joke) and generally had a great time out there in the desert.  There were a ton of vets who really cherished the weapons they maintained from wars they themselves fought in and the folks at the rental booth were only too happy to show me to load an M-16 and aim a 50cal.  Everyone was celebrating being free in an age where they confiscate your water at the airport and it was something we all noticed.

As expensive as these guns are to fire, people only shoot them for a few minutes each day and I was amazed how much time people spent unjamming their guns and working on them.  During the day, the line really only lit up when the target plane flew by.  I have some video below that shows just how nuts that was.  The night shoot on the other hand was a little more intense.  Between the fireworks, the flares and all the tracers, it was only a few minutes after dark before the whole hillside was on fire.  We were amazed that the whole desert didn't go up in flames.  I wish my camera could have captured the color and the intensity of the lightshow that night but its not even close.

There is not much else I can write which isn't in the pictures and videos below except to say thanks again to Kellie, Denny and McCoy who joined me on yet another crazy adventure.  Good friends make even a simple evening hanging out in a parking lot a great time :)

Oh and if your having any problem getting the videos to work just download VLC.

Oversized Sturgeon  -  Aug 27th, 2009 5:53pm

On our last day in Oregon, my dad and I met up with guide Charlie Foster who spends his whole year fishing on the Columbia for sturgeon.  He takes people out for what they call keeper sturgeon (4-5ft) about 2/3rds of the year, but during this magical time he guides exclusively for what I can now say with all seriousness - Oversize Sturgeon.

As per the norm, we met Charlie at a dock called The Fishery around 6:00am just west of the Bonneville Damn.  He actually reminded me a lot of our last guide Scott - quiet, light hearted, but with a slightly serious edge.  I guess when you fish for waterbound Buicks all day long you kind of have to be?

We got a great view of the area from the second we put out on the water.  This was a much more lush environment than Astoria.  Removed some distance from the cold ocean winds, this place looked like the island from King Kong.  Giant trees, a wide rolling river with dark green water and mountains covered in mist.  It was the perfect place to house a monster.

The fishing gear didn't look nearly as big as some of the rigs I'd used offshore, but the poles looked disturbingly thick at the base.  The actual rigging was 75lb test braided line with a 3lb lead ball followed by a 150lb nylon shock leader wrapped around and thread into a full 12" shinier with a big barbless hook.  After anchoring, Charlie floated these rigs down the river behind the boat using a second pole that clipped a massive bell shaped foam bobber to the main line.  When the bait was far enough back, someone yanked on the float line and the weight/bait dropped straight down at that spot and stayed there.  Another place, another Darwinian setup.

As soon as we yanked the float off of the 2nd line, Charlie said "3 minutes" with kind of a wry smile.  Unbelievably - 2 minutes and 50 seconds later one of the poles started to bounce and a few seconds later I set the hook.

At first, it didn't seem like that big a fish.  I could feel some weight as well as the vibration from him swimming around.  Then all of the sudden this beast breaches 150 feet behind the boat.  "Its about an 8 footer" Charlie says nonchalantly and my dad starts yelling where's your camera!?  Meanwhile I start to wonder what the hell I just got myself into as I fumbled the camera out of my jacket pocket with an adrenaline clenched hand.

When the fish decided it wanted to go downstream, the line screamed out against the drag and Charlie cut loose the anchor line to follow.  It was all I could do to hang on, and for a while the fish had the rod pinned to the edge of the boat.  The handle of the pole was digging into my stomach with each move the fish made so I was only too thrilled that Charlie offered me a fighting belt.  When my dad finally got that situated the fish had turned its head and I took the opportunity to try and take back some line.

I knew what I was supposed to do -- rear back then reel down.  Only the fish was too heavy to pull back on.  Every move I made was made twice again by the fish.  I managed a few feet here or there but my back was quickly tiring and within about 10 minutes I was in trouble and my lower back was burnt up.  I had a plan though - crouch in the corner and use my legs and the side of the boat for leverage.  It worked and over the next half an hour I was able to battle the thing back toward the boat and eventually get back on my feet.

All said and done Charlie estimated the fish at a stout 250lbs.  Above average but not completely unusual(says him!).  We snapped a few pictures, released my opponent and I tried to figure out what on earth I would do if we caught something bigger?  At some point I just wouldn't have enough strength to pull back and then what... get beaten?  Fortunately it was my dads turn next.

It took a little over an hour before he hooked up with a monster as well - a 6 1/2ft dinosaur that also flew straight out of the water right after getting hooked.  My dad was consumed and at 68 he stood there toe to toe with that fish only stumbling a few times when a run caught him off guard.  A bad back, bad knees and a nasty tennis elbow were all forgotten.  This is what we came here to do and damned if he didn't take care of business.  About 30 minutes later with a smile from ear to ear he pulled the sturgeon boatside.  Another impressive fish that weighed in around 150lbs.  How Charlie could be the only guide there that day is beyond me.  We had each had the experience of a lifetime and it was only 8am.

As it turned out, the rest of the day slowed down quite a bit.  I caught a few smaller fish between 3 and 4 feet, as did my dad.  Then just after lunch, my father hooked up with a 7 footer.  This one gave him only slightly more trouble as it was heavier (@175 lbs) and ran out a ton of line at first, but Charlie was great at maneuvering the boat into a good position to help fight the fish.  I have some great video of him fighting this second fish and will hopefully have it up soon.  Its impossible to get a good photo of them boatside as they are too heavy to lift and too long to fit in the lens from within the boat.

What I really needed for the day to be absolutely perfect was to catch just 1 more oversized goliath.  All dogs have their day and this was mine fortunately, as that's exactly what happened.  Right before our trip was to end, I hooked into a solid 7ft fish that was fresh from the ocean and full of piss and vinegar.  It jumped completely out of water twice before shooting straight to the bottom then running us sideways towards shore.  These fish put you in a corner and keep you there, but I'm proud to say I didn't have to resort to any tricks this time.  Following my dads example I stood tall and got pulled down only once when it finally saw the boat and made a long run back.

This is the kind of experience that I could gush about for days.  Its pointless though really.... its something you have to experience for yourself and something that every fisherman should do at least once.  Thank you Charlie for a great day I'll never forget, and thanks dad for being there.  I couldn't ask for a better fishing buddy :)

Salmon Fishing In Astoria  -  Aug 27th, 2009 4:10pm

"I've never caught a Salmon" is something I'm thrilled I can't say anymore.  It was one of of many fish I hope to check off my list in the next few years as I travel around working with various guides.  This trip was with Capt. Scott Pitts on the Columbia river in Astoria.

My father and I joined some folks from Idaho: Mike, Karl and Ela on a full day fishing trip for Silver and Chinook Salmon.  Apparently there are just a few weeks each year that you can harvest these fish in each area, so when that time comes to a town like Astoria,  the fishermen hit it hard inundating the river with boats and crab pots.

We added to this fray from first light, showing up at the doc to meet Scott in some cold and seriously wet morning air.  There was a little bait shop called Tackle Time next to the boat ramp that sold licenses, snacks, and drinks.  They open when the sane world is still sawing logs and were full of sass when we walked in at 5:30.

As the sun rose, I got my first real view of Astoria and the River itself.  A massive river as wide as a lake, spanned by bridges and surrounded by cliffs and forest.  It looked as I always imagined Alaska would.  The real surprise was that the fast moving water wasn't that deep.  Occasional shipping barges were navigating very specific channels as they went out to sea.  The water was moderately warm, blue/green and just slightly salty - the result of the ocean mixing with the Columbia during the incoming tides.

The area we were fishing is called buoy 10, and I think everyone in the zipcode knows about it because they were all there.  The horizon was boat to boat on each side of us.  Scott had told us earlier that this was supposed to be a record run of over a million fish and since each angler can only keep 2 fish a day, folks show up daily to land the pricey fish.

The fishing is done almost exclusively by trolling.  Large weights with spinners are kept down in the fast moving waters by downrigger or glider.  Cut herring or spinners are used as bait and most boats which hold 5-6 fisherman put out 1 line per person spacing all that equipment out by depth.  Our guide described this kind of fishing as long periods of waiting interrupted by complete panic.  This turned out to be absolutely true as nearly every fish we caught immediately raced for someone else's line in the mass of tackle that flowed behind our boat.

Things started off slow that morning and after an hour or so Mike nabbed the first salmon on a fluke as he was pulling out his line for us to go elsewhere.  It wasn't a bad catch at around 7lbs, but it was a native so we had to let it go.  Only hatchery fish are allowed to be kept.  They clip a fin on all test-tube fish so that you can tell the difference.

The day picked up though as the tide changed.  The fish came in waves where you would sit and bullshit for a few hours.  Then suddenly 3 lines would all hook up at once.  When they did it was complete panic and we actually lost a lot of fish.  Mike and my dad definitely had the lucky seats as they each picked up 3 or 4 fish while I had a tougher time just landing a single small silver all day.

The salmon there are heavy enough that along with the current they can snap a leader as I found out after my father handed me what was probably the biggest fish of the day (upwards of 15lbs).  I felt pretty bad as you could see it thrashing about 20ft behind the boat - but that's just how it works sometimes.  If it was always guaranteed then it wouldn't be such a thrill when you did land one.

The weather changed as often as the tide did.  At some points it was downright hot and at others it was cold and wet.  One of the most interesting things we ran into was the "rip".  A standing wave where the out flowing river met the incoming ocean and created a turbulent wall of water.  Following this for a while netted us our best fish including a 8-9lb silver for Mike and a scrappy Chinook for Karl - the only one we landed that day.

We were still short a couple of fish though as the day was supposed to end.  Scott really wanted me to land a few more fish though and help everyone limit out so we actually stayed out till nearly 6 oclock running up and down a specific stretch of the river landing about 2 fish per pass.  Unfortunately we had to call it a day before I got another strike, but it has to say something great about the day that I didn't mind.  Good company, a beautiful day, and my first salmon was more than enough to hold me over till our sturgeon trip a few days later.

An Oregon Fishing Vacation  -  Aug 27th, 2009 1:40pm

I just returned from fishing and exploring the northwest coast of Oregon.  Astoria, Seaside, Tillamook, Portland --- even having visited as a kid, these were just names on a map for me.  I had either missed or forgotten the kind of grand beauty and wonderfully cliched Americana that has survived there.  Not to mention the fantastic food or experience of catching a prehistoric fish the size of car.

I will have to do a separate post on the angling experiences as they were as varied as any 2 days could be in the lifetime of a fisherman.  For now I'm going to be a little self serving and just try to record what we did and post some photos as I want to reinforce these memories.  To let them sublimate like those from my childhood would be a tragedy to say the least.

I originally planned this trip as an excuse to take my father fishing and was going to keep the traveling to a minimum.  The extra day or so that resulted from my poor planning really turned out to be a blessing though as even after our long delayed Saturday flight we still had time to visit Portland our first evening.  Having survived the day on $11 margaritas we were scoping the town for dinner and on the recommendation of my friend Dale I chose Jakes Famous Crawfish.  I had to try the crawfish of course which was decent but my dad picked the fresh sturgeon which was a first for me and really quite good.  A pricey meal but neat place to visit before driving up to Astoria.

Highway 30 from Portland to Astoria is dark and winding.  Its a strange way to experience that land for basically the first time.  I kept thinking this is the kind of place sasquatch would live should he be seeking a summer home.  We finally arrived at our hotel, the Shilo Inn at Warrenton just after midnight and promptly became unconscious.  We would be salmon fishing at 5am the next morning so this seemed like a good plan.

If you've ever watched the movie "The Goonies", then you have some idea what Astoria and Warrenton look like as it was filmed there.  Lush green hills surrounding beaches and cliffs that back up to the end of the Columbia River/the Pacific Ocean.  Its rainy, foggy, and oppressively beautiful.  The towns seem to have become stuck in time somewhere around 1985... I couldn't tell if they were just beginning to die or just starting to come back to life?  Either way, we made our way that next morning to the docks and spent the entire day on the water.

Whether or not the fishing was good really depends on your measuring stick but it was definitely a great experience.  We hit a cool little brewery called "The Wet Dog" on our way back to the hotel that evening where I scarfed down a clamburger(another first) and some really great beer.  I knew I'd be a little sad to have to leave in the morning without exploring more, but traveling along the coast would prove to be a fun journey in of itself.

We had a full day to burn on Monday so we followed the coastal roads all the way from Astoria down to Tillamook stopping whenever we saw something that peaked our interest.  We hit a couple of beaches, some scenic views and even took a tour of the Tillamook Cheese factory.  What really struck me though was this bizarre little bay-side setup called The Jetty Fishery(they have a website, but I just can't subject anyone to it).

For $75 few bucks, this place will loan you one of their boats and some crab pots for a few hours to do your own crabbing/oystering.  When you return they'll steam up your catch and let you eat it right there seaside.  We didn't have quite enough time to try out the boats but we did purchase some of the mornings catch for lunch and had the best dungeness crab I've ever eaten.  It was a quirky, strange, backwards place that only reluctantly let us borrow a mallet to crack the crab shells, but it was absolutely perfect the way it was.

We left the Jetty and after having our fill of free cheese and ice-cream we made one last stop in Portland to get some donuts before trekking east to our final fishing locale.  Voodoo Donuts is a Portland landmark and a must visit for anyone who has a moment there.  They have giant head sized glazed demons and captain crunch covered angels.  They even sell a bacon maple concoction that I've been kicking myself for not noticing.  High on sugar, starch and grease we headed out of Portland to our final destination - The Cascade Locks.

The locks and the area surrounding Bonneville Damn are just stunning.  The forests and cliffs look like something out of the cretaceous period which fits perfectly the kind of sea-life that lives there.  Sturgeon that are big enough to swallow a bowling ball, and Chinook that can weigh in at 40lbs or more swim upstream every year to spawn.  Its a serene and peaceful place.  The kind of thing that makes me understand why people risked their life to travel there years ago.  Bascially the polar opposite of Phoenix.

As I said earlier, I'm saving the fishing tales for another post but holy crap... the next day was surreal.  By the time I went home I could hardly feel my left hand and I had finally caught a fish bigger than I was -- a dream I'd held since I was a kid.  I can't say enough about the place, the people and even my father who was a great traveling companion on this journey.  It will be a cold day before I let go of the memories I've made this time.

A Journey To Flagstaff  -  Aug 16th, 2009 8:06pm

I spent almost 6 years living in Flagstaff while I was going to school at NAU.  During that time I learned to love the town, and I thought I had experienced most of what it had to offer.  Turns out I was wrong, as I just got back from a fantastic trip to Flag where I got to visit Sunset Crater, Lowel Observatory, and the Lava Tubes - 3 things I had somehow missed during my life there?

I joined Mccoy and Kellie this time around.  They are great traveling companions - low maintenance folk like myself who are always up for whatever madness might be in store.  We left early Saturday morning and after fueling up with a high density breakfast of SweetTarts, beef jerky, and potato chips, we headed north - straight for Meteor Crater.

For anyone who hasn't been like myself -- Sunset/Meteor Crater is just that... the impact zone for a truck sized rock that hit ages ago.  Its about a half hour northeast of Flagstaff and apparently has visiting hours just like most holes in the ground do not have.  I'm not sure what govt agency runs that place but its apparently underfunded as they require 15 bucks to walk in the gate.  Not the worst spent money in the world as they have a cool little museum and some free viewing scopes, but it was a little odd.  A pretty impressive site overall & stunningly windy up on the rim.

After leaving the crater we made a pit-stop at "Kamp".  A strange roadside hazard that exists just south of the crater.  Not sure what drew me to the place - at first I thought it might have been an active scout camp or something.  As we turned off and drove up though, it became obvious that a former highway stop had been abandoned years ago and become a hangout in the middle of nowhere.  The pictures do a better job of describing this oddity...  A strangely beautiful ghetto.

We eventually stopped off at the hotel, then drove west of Flagstaff to visit the Lava Tubes.  They aren't the easiest thing to find.  The road is marked once you get close, but I didn't see any signage from the highway.  A few miles down a forestry road, we found a small parking lot and something that looked like a great big well.  Even when we got close it didn't look like what it really is - a mile long cave open to public exploration.

This isn't hard core spelunking, but its not exactly accessible either.  The first few hundred yards are pretty treacherous, and the cave is damp and cold (@50 degrees) year round.  Entering is like descending into Golum's home.  Its dark beyond black and something about the structure absorbs sound putting you in a state of complete sensory deprivation.  The cave is one long subway tunnel with a few 3 or 4 foot crawls.  Its almost completely devoid of life and structure save for what the lava left behind.  Its very eerie and a truly magnificent place.

It took us a little over 2 hours to make it to the end and back  - @3/4 a mile.  I loved every minute of the experience, but I was very happy to see sunlight.  Something about the lack of sensory input makes you a little wonky.  I think we were all happy to get on the road and head out towards Lowel Observatory.

I can't say much about the observatory as it was getting dark when we arrived.  I think if I visit again, I'll go before sunset so that I can check out the telescopes themselves.  They seemed like monstrous steampunk creations in the red glow from the observation lights.  We got a chance to look through the biggest one, a 26 inch refractory scope pointed at a star cluster.  Much blurrier than I expected, but still pretty damn cool.

We didn't stay at the observatory long because Kellie was wiped out and hadn't slept in a day or so.  The trip was capped off by a dinner at Beaver St.(their brambleberry brew is my favorite beer on earth) and a breakfast at Bacon in Scottsdale - I'll have to do a separate write up on that soon.  For now I'm spent and its time to take a rest.  Thanks for the great trip guys, can't wait for our next adventure :)

A Cold Day in Disneyland  -  Feb 16th, 2009 11:06pm

Last year, Kristin wanted to go to Disneyland for her birthday.  Unfortunately, the birthday planning committee succumbed to a case of fail-itis.  This year however, weather be damned, the trip was going to occur and I kept my promise to attend.

The Date: Friday, Feb 13th
Temperature: 40 degrees(f)
Chance of Rain: 128%
# of Umbrellas for 6 people: 1
The plan: Stay dry and off of the small world ride even if it costs me my life.

I have been to Disneyland several times throughout my life.  As a kid I was definitely taken in by its wonder.  As a young adult, it was a yawn at best.  At this point in my life, I found the place a real dichotomy.  Classic Rides like the Matterhorn or the Haunted Mansion hit me as engineering marvels and still made me smile :)  Newer rides though were boring at best, and gimmicky attempts to cash in on the good name of Pixar at worst.  I can't tell if the place is stumbling through an adolescence or if its on life support hoping for a visionary donor.

Fortunately the day began with the classics: Space Mountain, and the Yellow Submarine.  We were also fortunate enough to have a stranger thrust upon us a fistfull of free churros which took care of brunch.  A few rides later it started to rain and we to retreated to the shelter of the Pirates of the Carribean - a ride that spawned exactly 1 good movie and has since been tainted by its inferior sequels.  At least they kept Eddie Murphy the hell away from the Haunted Mansion.  Apparently even and endless supply of greed wasn't enough to summon such demonic assistance.

But it would be many hours before we would reach the Haunted Mansion.  The void in between became victim to Candice's appearance on the scene and this is where my story breaks down.  I am vaguely aware of my participation in Thunder Mountain, Mr Toads Wild Ride, and even Small World against my better judgment.  I know that I ate a series of soups, teas, and donuts that day to try and keep warm.  I also took a few pictures during the remainder of the day.  As to the exact nature of this void, such mysteries exist for a reason....

When I finally regained some level of consciousness and feeling in my toes, it was well past dark.  The rain had stopped but was replaced with even colder night air so we decided to make 1 last run to Space Mountain then bail.  I'm sure it would look hokey if someone turned on the lights in there, but I really do have a fondness for that ride and it was a good way to cap off the night.

When we finally arrived back at the hotel, I was soaked to the bone, in desperate need of a warm shower, and a desired nothing more than 15 hour nap.  The night was for the young though, and food and tequila followed before we all eventually gave in and shivered our asses back to the hotel.

There was more to this trip including lunch at The Stinking Rose to knock 2 items off my 100 things list.  I also spent time at the Long Beach aquarium though it was all colored by the remnants of my previous day at the park.  In the end I returned home, ready for a vacation from my vacation.  But hey - only 26 items to go and at least I found some redeeming qualities to a place I had all but written off.

Fishing Corpus Christi  -  Oct 3rd, 2008 9:32pm

After fishing for 2 days in Port Isabel, I figured it would be time for some different scenery, and so my dad and I headed east to Corpus Christi.  It was a little shocking to be honest.  After having spent the last few days in a somewhat small vacation town, I was a little unprepared for the very touristy and chain driven city.

I probably would have found the town a little more to my liking had the fishing been better, but even though the weather had improved a little - fishing was really tough.

We met our guide, Mike Angel, at Clem's just after 7am.  The mosquitoes at the dock nearly ate me alive before we could get to the water.  Once in the bay though, the water was dead calm and we were treated to a double sunrise over a few juvenile redfish.  Unfortunately that was about all there would be besides a few scattered small trout for the rest of the day.

The original plan was to head out to the oil rigs and fish the big water for Snapper, Kings and Ling.  Unfortunately, 5ft swells were just too much for Mike's boat.  Props to him though for journeying all the way up to Baffin Bay in search of the Reds.  We traveled a looooong way and fished hard from 7am till almost 5pm.  We as well as everyone else we saw were using live shrimp and bait fish behind big "chugging" bobbers.  The technique involved yanking the bobber forward every few seconds to make it look and sound like a feeding fish.  An interesting contrast to Port Isabel where we exclusively fished with artificial lures the day before.

Fish or no fish, there were still some amazing sites out on the water.  Over the years a few people have been allowed to build what I could best describe as fishing shacks on strips of land created from dredging dirt.  Barges stormed up and down the channel from Corpus headed towards Mexico, and the water was filled with wild life.  We saw huge turtles, schools of jumping mullet, and all manner of birds.

Sun baked and wind worn, we finally made it back to Clem's "whupped".  We weren't alone though as the high waters left over from the recent storms had made it tough for everyone.  We added a few more trout to the cooler, said our thanks to Mike and schlepped back to the hotel.  There is definitely a big redfish with my name on it out there somewhere, but it will have to wait for another day.

Fishing Port Isabel  -  Sep 25th, 2008 8:09pm

I promised myself this year I would start traveling more and catch these fish that I've always dreamed of.  To that affect, I went to Texas a few days early on my way to Austin so that I could go fishing with Danno Wise in Port Isabel.

I'm happy to say that while the weather threatened to squash my dreams a couple of times, we persevered and had an amazing time.  Before I get into the fishing though, I think its worth mentioning the place we stayed.  The White Sands is definitely a fisherman's hotel.  Its light on the decor and a little down and dirty, but each room has a freezer for your fish and the restaurant opens at 6am so you can eat before catching your boat at their dock!  I can't stress enough how cool it was to walk 20ft out of your room and step onto the boat you'll be fishing in that day.  Did I mention that its only 40 bucks a night?  That alone practically guaranteed that I'll come back.

But enough about the high class caves that keep us warm - lets talk fishing so you'll know what I want to go back to.  The first day started out pretty windy.  We braved the initial waves and began catching "trout" almost immediately.  Using a strange float/rubber shrimp combo as well as the shrimp jig alone we probably produced 18 or 20 of them that first day.  Many were below the 20inch legal size limit but a half dozen made it over and I caught one that was nearly 3lbs.  We spent most of that first day searching for redfish but they never materialized.  What did show up on the last cast of the day though was a monster Jack Crevalle.

When your using rods designed for 4 and 5lb fish, your really not prepared to boat a tuna-class critter.  Nonetheless, as my father held onto my shorts to keep me upright in the ever increasing waves, we chased after the fish to prevent it from spooling me.  Somewhere in the back of my head I knew it probably wasn't going to happen but I kept as much pressure as I dared on 10lb test and after 2 or 3 good runs and about 15 minutes I managed to boat the thing.  We estimated that it weighed between 30 and 35lbs and after a few pictures of me grinning like an idiot on Christmas day we let the brute go.

I honestly thought the trip would all be downhill from there.  Fortunately the 2nd day my father and I each managed to catch our intended prey - a Texas Redfish.  Unfortunately, both were just below the legal size limit of 25 inches, but they were still beautiful fish.  Towards the end of the day, Danno shuffled us over towards the mangroves in quiet hopes that we could latch onto a Snook.  My dad was the recipient this time and both Danno and I knew what he had the second it rocketed out of the water.  Pops is an angler to the core and laded it without a hitch, but according to Danno they get off most of the time.  It was quite a catch and a great exclamation point to another good day on the water.

I could go on about the quirky little town, the restaurants we ate at, even the convenience store across the street that sold shoes, hats, food, drink, liquor, bait, and fresh seafood, but its a bit much.  Its simpler for me to post a few images and let your imagination fill in the blanks.  Needless to say - Port Isabel is a real gem.  At least for October fisherman, the town is nearly deserted, the fishing is great and I can speak for at least 1 guide who was a lot of fun.  I think I'll just have to make the sacrifice and go back next year :)

A Santa Cruz Wedding  -  May 19th, 2008 1:28pm

I went to Santa Cruz this last weekend to see our our friends Becky and Efre(pronounced F-Ray) get married.  I tried to explore as much as I could while I was there and drove up and down the coast from Monterey to San Jose.  I now see why those two were so taken with the area.  Its like Yosemite smashed into the beach and then the surfers moved in and started a town.  Duuuude.... Treeees!

I'm not sure if its like this all year long but the sky was clear, the sun was warm and the wind was almost chilly.  The beach cliffs were all covered with flowers and it was foggy and calm every morning.  Really made me miss living in San Diego.

Anyway, we got there late Thursday night and after hitting the 24hr donut and Ice-cream shop across the street for a Donut a-la-mode we we crashed out in a blissful sucrose induced coma.  The next morning while Kristin helped with wedding errands I drove around for a while just checking out the town .  I visited a local chocolatier: Donnely Chocolates and gorged myself on Chocolate Covered Salted Carmel.  Had some goat taco's at a little hole in the wall and topped it all off with some consumer whoring at the surf shops (hooray for neoprene booties!).

The rehersal dinner was next that Friday night, then on Saturday morning I woke up way too early and went Kayak Fishing.  I'll have to post on that seperately as it was an awesome experience in of itself.  I was pretty wiped out when the wedding rolled around that evening, but the wedding itself was really nice and very peaceful.  I was the fill-in videographer for a tech savy grandma who had sent a video camera in her place while Kristin was a bridesmaid.  One of the coolest parts of the whole night was that one of the groomsmen was also a bremaster and brought both some homebrew as well as some custom crafted stuff from the brewery he works at.

I capped the trip off with some surf fishing on Sunday Morning with the Wilsons to NewBrighton beach which is one of the most amazing places I have ever seen.  Definitely check out the pictures below as the description of a foggy beach bordered by cliffs and trees just doesn't do it justice.  I didn't catch much but standing out there in the surf always makes me feel better for some reason.

Congratulations Becky and Efre!