Campin' & fishin' with my good buddy Mr. Jeff Miller on or about the middle of lower Upp_r Cr_ek.
 

Pics at a later date--I hope? Camera issues and a partial Reid :~^(

After several years of careful plannin', Mr. Miller and I were able to agree
on a date for this expedition. My backpack sat, almost fully packed, in my
bedroom for two weeks before the chosen day. I had a list of items that I
still needed to purchase to complete the perfect campin' experience.
Between the two weeks before the trip and the day of, I had repacked at
least 4 times to get things situated just right--weight distribution,
overall height of pack above my head, fit and comfort. I knew packin' light
was gonna be of paramount importance, so some thing would have to be removed
and other things would have to be added. Upon final packin', I figured that
the pack weighed in the neighborhood of 45-50lbs.?

Jeff and I met up at uncle Wally's store front at 5:00ish AM, I was 5
minutes late having over slept, in anticipation of our adventure, or fear
that might never see my beloved bed again? We reached the trailhead around
5:45 AM. We got our **** together and headed into the deepest darkest of
wood. Neither of us thought to bring a watch and my cell-phone won't show
the time, when "searchin'" for a signal. Not that we really needed to know
the time, but it wouldn't have hurt either.

We made it down to the stream in record time, as our packs gave us great
forward momentum. Who could have known the amount of kinetic energy within
a backpack pointed down hill at a 45 degree angle, on unsteady legs?
Experienced, as were in the art of campin', we proceeded up the trail from
the stream in search of a more remote campin' site than the ones at the
junction point. Eventually, we had to cross the stream, which meant that we
had to drop our packs to change into our wadin' boots, or for those of us
that are too lazy change shoes, we walk bare foot over slimy bowling ball
sized rocks. I fully expected to get my Reid points early in the trip!
Safely across we made our way to the first campn' site we saw. We set up
camp, and although Mr. Miller wasn't too pleased with my tent placement,
right beside his own, we headed off to fish!

Fishin' was good Fri. and we caught many browns and 'bows. None anymore
than 10 inches, but lots of them. We fished up a good way, when I had had
as much as my newly (Tues.) hyper-extended knee could take--appointment with
OrthoSurgeon on May 8th. I rock hopped for an hour or better back to the
camp. I promptly broke out the trusty PurHiker and filled the five gallon
collapsible container about half full. Started a campfire, set-up the
Primus "Himalayan" cook stove, and then began the process of boilin' the
water we intended to drink.

I fretted and worried as to whether Jeff would make it back on his own, or
if I might have to set out in search of his broken body in the dead of
night, with a mini-mag-light? I mean, how is one supposed to make proper
dinner plans, when the cook is nowhere to be found? Jeff, finally, showed
up as I was finishin' up with the water distribution system that I had
carefully planned so many months ago--did anyone else know that if you pour
boilin' water into a 16.9 oz. plastic water bottle that it's volume
diminishes in direct proportion to the actual temperature of the water?

After I watched Jeff engulf two of the freeze-dried campin' dinners, and
about thirty minutes before actual darkness fell, I headed out to see if the
fish were hitting. I got to a large pool with a downed tree in the flow of
water, bugs were comin' off every which away. I cast a traditional Adams.
BAM! fish on. Release, bam, fish on again! Ever cast I made drew a
strike. I've not ever fished this late in the eve, so I wasn't sure what to
expect. I was standing directly over top of all the fish that I cast to?
The last two fish I caught were fairly large, compared to what we had been
catchin' during the rest of the day. I lost the second to last, when he
broke off my 6x tippet somewhere amongst the gnarled limbs of the fallen
tree in the middle of the run. I retied and caught a 10 or so incher in the
same lie. Satisfied and scared of the approchin' darkness, I headed back to
camp. Nighty, night.

Op

Campin' & fishin' with my good buddy Mr. Jeff Miller on or about the middle of lower Upp_r Cr_ek.
 

well, that was a fun read!!
Tom

Campin' & fishin' with my good buddy Mr. Jeff Miller on or about the middle of lower Upp_r Cr_ek.
 

Mr. Opus McDopus wrote:
Pics at a later date--I hope?

Me, too. Nice TR Mark. Thanks.
--
TL,
Tim
---------------------------
http://css.sbcma.com/timj/

Campin' & fishin' with my good buddy Mr. Jeff Miller on or aboutthe middle of lower Upp_r Cr_ek.
 

upon return home, i discovered rachel "used" my computer in my absence.
somehow, she managed to delete all of my e-mail and newsgroup and
browser settings, saved material, bookmarks, and access. it's gone, and
i couldn't access web. so, i'm at work now and can't post much. i will
have to figure out how to re-load browser and all settings at home and
then i'll try to post the "truth" and some photos of our little
adventure in camping.

however, i do now believe in reincarnation. there is no doubt mark was
a pack animal in a previous life...g

jeff

Mr. Opus McDopus wrote:

Pics at a later date--I hope? Camera issues and a partial Reid :~^(

After several years of careful plannin', Mr. Miller and I were able to agree
on a date for this expedition. My backpack sat, almost fully packed, in my
bedroom for two weeks before the chosen day. I had a list of items that I
still needed to purchase to complete the perfect campin' experience.
Between the two weeks before the trip and the day of, I had repacked at
least 4 times to get things situated just right--weight distribution,
overall height of pack above my head, fit and comfort. I knew packin' light
was gonna be of paramount importance, so some thing would have to be removed
and other things would have to be added. Upon final packin', I figured that
the pack weighed in the neighborhood of 45-50lbs.?

Jeff and I met up at uncle Wally's store front at 5:00ish AM, I was 5
minutes late having over slept, in anticipation of our adventure, or fear
that might never see my beloved bed again? We reached the trailhead around
5:45 AM. We got our **** together and headed into the deepest darkest of
wood. Neither of us thought to bring a watch and my cell-phone won't show
the time, when "searchin'" for a signal. Not that we really needed to know
the time, but it wouldn't have hurt either.

We made it down to the stream in record time, as our packs gave us great
forward momentum. Who could have known the amount of kinetic energy within
a backpack pointed down hill at a 45 degree angle, on unsteady legs?
Experienced, as were in the art of campin', we proceeded up the trail from
the stream in search of a more remote campin' site than the ones at the
junction point. Eventually, we had to cross the stream, which meant that we
had to drop our packs to change into our wadin' boots, or for those of us
that are too lazy change shoes, we walk bare foot over slimy bowling ball
sized rocks. I fully expected to get my Reid points early in the trip!
Safely across we made our way to the first campn' site we saw. We set up
camp, and although Mr. Miller wasn't too pleased with my tent placement,
right beside his own, we headed off to fish!

Fishin' was good Fri. and we caught many browns and 'bows. None anymore
than 10 inches, but lots of them. We fished up a good way, when I had had
as much as my newly (Tues.) hyper-extended knee could take--appointment with
OrthoSurgeon on May 8th. I rock hopped for an hour or better back to the
camp. I promptly broke out the trusty PurHiker and filled the five gallon
collapsible container about half full. Started a campfire, set-up the
Primus "Himalayan" cook stove, and then began the process of boilin' the
water we intended to drink.

I fretted and worried as to whether Jeff would make it back on his own, or
if I might have to set out in search of his broken body in the dead of
night, with a mini-mag-light? I mean, how is one supposed to make proper
dinner plans, when the cook is nowhere to be found? Jeff, finally, showed
up as I was finishin' up with the water distribution system that I had
carefully planned so many months ago--did anyone else know that if you pour
boilin' water into a 16.9 oz. plastic water bottle that it's volume
diminishes in direct proportion to the actual temperature of the water?

After I watched Jeff engulf two of the freeze-dried campin' dinners, and
about thirty minutes before actual darkness fell, I headed out to see if the
fish were hitting. I got to a large pool with a downed tree in the flow of
water, bugs were comin' off every which away. I cast a traditional Adams.
BAM! fish on. Release, bam, fish on again! Ever cast I made drew a
strike. I've not ever fished this late in the eve, so I wasn't sure what to
expect. I was standing directly over top of all the fish that I cast to?
The last two fish I caught were fairly large, compared to what we had been
catchin' during the rest of the day. I lost the second to last, when he
broke off my 6x tippet somewhere amongst the gnarled limbs of the fallen
tree in the middle of the run. I retied and caught a 10 or so incher in the
same lie. Satisfied and scared of the approchin' darkness, I headed back to
camp. Nighty, night.

Op