I took the family and the camper out for a warm-up run to the Sierras in
preparation for the upcoming Western Clave. I wanted to be sure that I
wouldn't lose any time from beating up old men and baiting bears and riding
ATVs in the Illegal Zones and shootin up the campground while drunker than
Cooter Brown and all the other usual pastimes that we all so enjoy out West.
And its a damn good thing I did, too. My truck broke down in the midst of LA
rush hour traffic and the propane system gave out about halfway through the
extended weekend (Where's Hank Hill when ya need him?). All is repaired and
ready except my wallet, which took a substantial draining.

My son, Ryan , had tried flyfishing about five years ago and is not much
interested in fishing. However, once he stopped watching me and started
trying on his own, he did pretty darn well. We hiked the Lyell fork of the
Tuolumne on Friday. What a beautiful place. Lots of fish and stunning
scenery.

On Saturday we hiked into a high valley of many lakes interconnected by
small streams. The lake fishing was ok but the fish in the streams were
ravenous. We took turns catching brookies and rainbows from one tiny riffle
that could not have been 12 feet long or 8 feet wide. Ry musta caught 12 or
14 fish out of that riffle.

The road to my favorite set of high lakes was still closed from the late
spring snow. Maybe I'll go back later in the season.

I don't know if Ry is ready to give up his surfboard for a flyrod, but I
sure hope he can mix in a little time with the old man.

There's a few pics posted at ABPF.

Danl