This blog posted is a week delayed because I was called to a fire mid-editing.
Two of my friends from our fire team Jake and Billy have an annual fishing trip on the East Fork of the Carson river and invited me to come along this year. It was the three of us and three dogs, Shady, Daisy and Banjo. We didn't run into anyone else the entire time we were out there and had a great relaxing time walking the river and fishing, while yelling at the dogs to stay back. They loved seeing a fish flop around, and Banjo was fond of running off with them in his mouth. Apparently he ate a whole one, because it showed up in Jakes back yard the next week.
We hiked in about 5 miles the first day. Jake and Billy brought about 80 pounds each, mostly in food. We ate like kings in the wilderness.
We fished that night and got up again the next day. A storm came through in the afternoon, but we got back to camp to set up a fly in time. I think the dogs really appreciated. As typical out here, after an hour it was done and we had a fire to sit around. Billy had a pretty bad blister on his toe from the hike in and sloshing around the water all day, and had to do some field surgery on it.
The next day we hiked four miles to the next camp and did some more fishing.
And some more fishing with another clear night. I caught the only brook trout of the trip, which is a special pretty fish.