Fishing Season Officially Ends

Oh, this is bad. Dad called tonight and asked me to update my blog. When a senior citizen (sorry Dad) thinks you are behind on your blog, you are REALLY behind.

More importantly, why would I go for 4 months without updating my blog? What is wrong with me? When I lived in E-town, bi-weekly updates came easily. But then, so did doing the laundry, writing letters to old friends and relatives, detailing the baseboards and anything else that would pass the time and make the days go by with something to do. It's not that Alpine is a mecca of activity, either. But for whatever reason, I feel like I'm on warp speed again. Beam me up, Scotty.

Four months...let's see. Work, kids, Kev's new job, a few road trips, shaving Dazy (I'm stretching for things now), and finally got the yard fully weeded in time for snowfall. Grand accomplishments. But I digress...

The best part of the last four months was the last 5 days. Dad and I took out a map, and marked all the places we wanted to fish and explore between Utah, Wyoming, and Montana. We made it to a fraction of them. I would put Thermopolis as a gem of a find. World's biggest natural hot spring melts right into the Big Horn river. Imagine standing in water that's 100 degrees but casting to freezing cold water just a few flycasts away. Pretty spectacular. Then there was the amazing "secret" lake near the Big Horn where I caught my trophy. All I will say is that the fishing Gods were kind because I was a hot mess trying to reel it in. A small miracle I was able to land it.

I will skip the section about fishing xxxxx and xxxxx. Dad caught xxxx and Tessa caught x. It was an anomoly. A freaky, bad dream that had me ready to snap my rod in half and give up fishing altogether. Fortunately, the goldfinger came back on the Green River and I was back to equal footing with pops.

We stopped and saw the Mormon trail, shared trivia about trappers, beaver hunting and the Gold Rush in California, and shared our favorite western storylines from movies and books of old.

It was a great end to fall and a wonderful memory to carry with me forever. I can hardly wait til next year's adventure. And not a WORD from any of you about the purple pants. Purple is the new black.