Still Crazy...

Here I am, 23 years into this profession, 29 years working with kids. The little darlins can still surprise me and I can still get choked up. This morning my plan was head on out right after school for a weekend in the mountains. I'm heading out in a few minutes.

Yesterday I played this kinda corny video for the kids. They really liked it. Today, my afternoon gang asked if I'd play the video again. They started singing and dancing around. It was spontaneous and sincere, not obnoxious, like you often get from middle-schoolers. It's moments like that which remind me why I got into this profession and why I'm still at it.

During the last couple of weeks I've debated whether or not to even to continue this blog. The blog's title doesn't really apply anymore. Thanks to a good talking-to from my doctor late this spring, and thanks to a few weeks this summer with a certain blonde someone who brought passion back to my life, I have lost 35 pounds, am in the process of losing many more, and have ten times more energy than I've had in over five years. It's been like waking up from a long, hazy dream. I'm no longer so interested in parking my ass in front of the computer, and after this summer, I don't think anyone besides me will read this here blog, anyway.

For some reason after our sing-along today, I felt compelled to get this down as soon as I walked through the door. This might be the last hoorah of Days of Sloth and Gluttony, if so, it's not a bad way to go out. If anyone reads this, I hope you like the video.

Happy Trails,
Ken

Symphony of Science - The Poetry of Reality (An Anthem for Science)

It's $#&@ing Fall!

Fall has arrived! School has started and the first king salmon of the season are now in the freezer.

"Best of all, he loved the fall..." Those timeless words were written by Ernest Hemingway in a eulogy to a friend who had died in a bird hunting accident. It was 1939 when Hemingway read the eulogy in the cemetery in Ketchum, Idaho. Those words have been etched in my mind and heart since I first read them when I was living in Ketchum, more than fifty years later.

Winter has the snow and winter steelhead. Spring is the return of the sun, trout fishing, and track season. Summer is two months of freedom. But fall is life at its peak. The bugs are gone, the nights are cool, the fishing is the best, and hunting season is in full force. To me, fall is the true beginning of the year, from a professional view as well as a natural one. It is the time of year when I don't want to waste a single day, minute, second.

This weekend was full of grouse hunting, deer scouting, and trout fishing over in the Methow Valley. So here's to barbecued king salmon, fresh corn on the cob, fresh peaches, grouse pesto pasta, elk steaks, and cold beer. Don't waste a second of it.

Damdovids

I was looking through pictures for the next post and thought it would be fun to put in these videos from the last Damdochax adventure. Check out "Clarity" Clint Starwalker, Aileen "The Rainbow Warrior", and of course, guiding us all, Hannah the "Damdochick." You'll want to turn up the volume for the insightful commentary.

What a Long, Strange Trip...

So I'm looking at the time on the computer, 5:00 A.M. Nope, didn't just wake up. Been awake and asleep several times over the last three days, just not for very long at any one stretch. I picked up some sort of stomach bug that's nastier than any I've had since the Pakistan trip years ago. Sweats, shivers, frequent trips to the head. Was really sweating it when I saw the long border lines yesterday. Made it home O.K.

Anyway, I didn't start this to whine about being sick, but to kind of shed a little light on the kind of summer and year it's been. I remember towards the end of last summer, asking the Good Lord for a little help in getting out of what had become a four-year rut. Careful what you wish for, right? Wait a minute, isn't the New Year's crap supposed to happen January first? Not in my line of work. After so many years in the classroom, my mental year pretty much starts September first instead of January.

Last Fall turned out to be a good rut-buster. Fly-fishing trips down the Methow and Yakima rivers with my buddy Steve were priceless (I hope he still has one more in him this fall). Hunting season was full of September grouse hunts, back-to-back Ketchum and Stanley hunts in October, and a good trip to Bonner's Ferry in November.

Spent many weekends along with the annual after-Christmas trip steelhead fishing out on the Peninsula. Finally bought a spey rod despite earlier claims of never wanting to be one of those fruity-snooties. Learning to cast the damn thing has been both fun and frustrating. But I have managed to catch some fish with it.

Spent four days in Arizona with Carew and Rodly in February. My bulging belly really became apparent and frustrating while struggling to make it up a climb that previously would have been a walk in the park. It's incredible what steep granite can do to bust up denial. Spring break in Stanley was a hell of a good time catching up with some old Idaho friends and getting some rare fishing time with Mick.

Which bring us to this summer. Which really kicked off for me with a trip to Northern B.C. I had only met the lodge owner, Hannah, twice, but she graciously accepted my offer of trading some volunteer work time for some fishing time. what an experience. They must have liked me O.K. because I was invited to come back up. In between Canada trips, it was north to Alaska to visit my buddy Doug, and spend some time with eskimo folks. What an eye-opener. The second Canada trip? Even better than the first. It really gave me a chance to establish some new friendships that will hopefully continue on.

The weight? Lost 25 pounds so far. Which is a good start, but still a long uphill battle to get back to healthy. But I'm getting there. Hunting season should account for another twenty pounds, and if this stomach crud keeps holding on, I might lose more sooner than I thought. Not worth it.

So it's back to work on Monday and the start of a new year.

Six Heroes

I have a few heroes. They are people who I have looked up to, who have traits and values I admire. The list is pretty short. Here are six of them. There are more.

My Aunt Doris - Who lived life with a smile on her face. Who was a model of class, dignity, and thoughtfulness, even when she was fighting leukemia.

My grandpa Bernie. Who always had that twinkle in his eye. Who always made sure I thought about what I said before it came out of my mouth. Who taught me to never take myself too seriously.

My first principal, Bud Kuhlman. Who has shown me the right way to do the job, and the right reasons for doing it.

My former principal Chuck Turner. Who has shown me how to deeply care for my students and the people I work with on my own terms.

Edmund Hillary, of Mt. Everest fame. Who taught to give back to those who have given to you, and to never take success for granted.

Bill Russell, of Boston Celtics fame. Who has personified the phrase "It is far better to understand than to be understood." Say what you want about Michael Jordan, Kobe Bryant, etc. It's a team game and Bill Russell was the best to ever play it. Period.

Anyway, I thought of this topic, when I came across a couple of videos of conversations between Bill Russell, and Kevin Garnett, who happens to be my favorite active player. So I thought I'd put them up on the old seldom-viewed blog.

Kevin Garnett & Bill Russell Conversation - 1 (Mar 6, 2008)

Kevin Garnett & Bill Russell Conversation - 2 (Mar 6, 2008)

Take Me to the River

After a few days of fighting the Seattle traffic and talking to Department of Retirement employees who could give a shit, I headed for the water Wednesday night. After a couple of hours standing in the river waving a thirteen foot stick on Thursday, the jaw muscles relaxed, the brow unfrowned and life was good again. Sure it was a hot, humid day, and I didn't get a steelhead to bite, but the smile was back on.

Friday on the Methow with my dad and his buddy Al was also a smile-maker. Yes, it was hot. Yes, we didn't catch a ton of fish. Yes the sky was hazy with smoke. But, hey, this was the first time fishing a river with the old man in quite a long time. We've been hitting the lakes in the tubes the past few years, but there's just that something special about sharing a river that we'd been missing out on.

Reverting Back

The other day, I was hanging out with my buddy, Carew, who was up from Arizona visiting family and friends. He said being over at his parent's place was like being sixteen again, asking to borrow the car. We started talking about how, here we are, in our forties, still feeling like we were kids around our parental units. What is this power they have over us?

Sometimes we just act like kids. This morning, my brother Lee and I were over at our dad's house helping the old man with a little bathroom renovation work. Lee was doing his best to make me laugh, and I was trying to crack him up behind Big Daddy's back. Maturity, right?

Why is this? Lee and Carew both have kids of their own, and I was a step dad for a few years, but here we were reverting back to being the kids ourselves. Out on the river yesterday, the old man was cussing more than I've heard him in a long while. Rather than bust out laughing, like I would have with anyone else, I found myself suppressing the laugh so as not to get Dad pissed off even more. Go figure.

Invictus

Have you seen the movie "Invictus"?
If you haven't, you're missing out.
What do you know about Nelson Mandela?
Unbelievable perseverance.
Gentle strength.
Forgiveness.
You'll want to know more.

Salmon

What is it about watching salmon and steelhead? Love it. Is this just a built-in predatory interest?

I'd like to think it's more than that, some sort of deeper connection. Many native cultures have special beliefs reserved for salmon, maybe they had something figured out that we don't yet. I don't feel the same watching the fish in my friend's coy pond or someone's fish tank. Might be a matter of seeing a wild fish in a wild setting.

Recently, I spent a fair amount of time on my hands and knees just watching a steelhead alevin while fishing a river in B.C. An alevin is a baby fish with a yolk sack still attached to its belly. It will feed off this yolk sack until it's grown enough to get nutrition feeding on its own. Science lesson in the summer? Scary.

I enjoyed watching the little fella much more than any T.V. show I've seen lately. Why?

Here's a video I took in Alaska last week of pink salmon on their way upstream to spawn. See if you can spot the lone chum salmon.

Nomeward Bound

Where to begin? Sometimes you get lucky and are able to gain experiences available to few. The last week and a half was one such experience. I'm a fan of Nick Jans' writing. His stories of living with the natives of Alaska are unbelievably well-written in a personal way. Well, with the help of one old friend and several new ones, I was able to get my own brief glimpse of a truly unique culture.

I've spent plenty of time around natives in the lower 48 over the years, beginning with summers in La Push in the seventies. The Eskimo culture has some similarities to other native cultures, but theirs is a unique life, based on where they call home, and now, the influences of the modern world upon their lifestyles, like four-wheelers, four-stroke outboards, and cell-phones.

My friend, Doug, is the director for a school in Nome that flies native kids in from their villages and gives them choices of all kinds of technical and cultural courses along with experience of life outside their village. This program is almost precisely the opposite of where the test-crazy politicians are taking our schools. Which means the kids actually gain practical and relevant knowledge and skills.

Doug and his girlfriend, Dar, gave me the chance to head out to her family's fishing camp with them for a couple of days. You would have a tough time trying to find genuinely nicer, kinder people anywhere. I'm sorry, but southern hospitality pales compared to Eskimo hospitality.

Do yourself a favor and read some of Nick Jans' work, he does a much better job verbally describing the culture than I ever could. Here's some pictures. And my biggest thanks to the people of Nome and Brevig that gave me a truly life-time experience.

Eskimo Food

I have been having an unbelievable summer. One of only a few over the years without classes or workshops. Tons of time in the mountains and on the water. Feels so damn good.

I usually don't write until I get back, but I'm going to make an exception for eskimo food. You read it right, if anyone else reads this.

Been in Nome visiting Doug and Dar. Dar's dad sent her a care package filled with smoked fish, dried fish, seal blubber, and walrus flipper. Got to try them all. The smoked fish was familiar, of coarse. Still not sure what kind of fish it is. The dried pink salmon is also good. The flipper was really rubbery with kind of a sweetish taste, unlike anything I've ever eaten before. The seal blubber had a texture like a raw oyster, but the saste was STRONG! Still can't begin to describe it. Dar warned us that the Dr. Pepper we tried to wash it down with would taste differently after eating eskimo food, and she was right. The blubber will take some getting used to.

About Bears

It's said that a bear's nose is a thousand times more sensitive than a human's. The bear follows this nose. He wanders. Sometimes his nose takes him where he wants, where the salmon are spawning or where the huckleberries are sweet. Sometimes the wind shifts, his nose betrays him and he is surprised. What then?

Finding Forrester

Watched Finding Forrester again tonight for about the dozenth time. It's just a flat-out quality film. One of my top three. What do all three have in common? No sequels. The best line from the movie? "I'm that one." You'll have to see it to make sense.

Outdoor Camp Revisited

Returned from two weeks fishing and helping out at a remote fishing lodge in Northern B.C.
My friend, Hannah, and her mom, Alice own and operate this wilderness retreat. From here, it takes 13 and 1/2 hours driving, then an hour flight in an Otter float plane. It's worth the commute.

During the fall of my senior year of high school, I decided to get out of class for a week by volunteering as a camp counselor at the outdoor school run by our school district. This decision eventually became life-changing. What started as a way to get out of class and be outdoors for five days became more about working with kids and what deep-down I had to offer them. That week led to two more weeks in the spring, and later, an invitation to do similar work during that summer for the Boys and girls Clubs. These camp sessions led eventually to working and running outdoor education camps for three other school districts.

The outdoor camp experience was magical. For five days, we would leave life's trials and tribulations behind and enter a world all our own. Working to give those kids the best time possible with fun-loving, like-minded people in the outdoors created a euphoric experience never to be forgotten. It also created a light-hearted and heavy-hearted feeling when the week came to a close. Light-hearted because of new friendships made as well as the promise of something more with the cute counselor I'd been flirting with that week. Heavy-hearted because of the inevitable return to "reality." Every one of those weeks at camp turned out to be a growing experience in many ways.

These outdoor camps were life-changing in that they gave me the social confidence I had previously lacked. Finding out what you are good at and being recognized for your competence is something we all strive for not only in our youth but all throughout life. Also, these same experiences were life-changing because they ultimately led to choosing a teaching career. Sometimes I curse this choice, but for the majority of the time, it's been beyond worthwhile.

These last two weeks spent in the wilds of B.C. were, in a way, like a camp for grown-ups. Or semi grown-ups in our case. The work was challenging at times, the fishing was exciting at times, but what made it all so memorable was the camaraderie. The time spent with Hannah, Alice, Clint, Aileen, Tony, Dan, and Christina created a world I hadn't been a part of since those early camp days.

Now, I don't mean to belittle what Hannah and Alice have going. My escape is their reality, and they are very good at what they do. Extremely good. They run one of the world's premier steelhead fly-fishing destinations. People who have the means to fish anywhere in the world return year after year to experience not only the fishing but the hospitality Hannah and her mom create.

My role the past two weeks was to help them prepare for their upcoming season. But in the process, we managed to have an unforgettable time, and I managed to come away with that light-hearted, heavy-hearted feeling again. Light-hearted from making new friends, losing ten pounds, and getting back strength and discipline. Heavy hearted for having to leave those friends behind and having to go back to the noise of life in a small city and the daunting task of dropping the remaining sixty pounds. Also heavy-hearted because of this huge "what-next?" feeling.

I guess this a transition.

Summer Groove

Making the switch from all-out in-your-face action to too much time alone takes a little while. Energy is slowly coming back, now it's time to have fun while working to shed the gut. Reworking bad habits into better ones is always a challenge. Now making the transition from the fishing and drinking mode to the eat smarter and exercise consistently mode. Hopefully the trip up north will come together and two weeks of working in the woods will get the ball really rolling. What doesn't kill you makes you stronger, eh? Back don't fail me now.

Can't believe Fedor lost. Werdum's arm-bar got him. Saw the fight on you-tube. The man has been an inspiration to us with spare tires. Reminds of what it was like seeing Ali lose to Leon Spinks. Hopefully Fedor will come back strong, he seems too intelligent not to. You gotta wonder how many more good fights he has ahead before age gets the better of him, too. Watching the fight doesn't make me want to step onto the mat again anymore, but it does inspire me to want to get the strength back.

Rivers

Just got back from river fishing out on the coast. Just what the doctor ordered. Well, not really, the doctor ordered that I lose weight by eating better and exercising more. There was exercise involved, anyway. The last three posts I wrote were pretty heavy, so I think I'll lighten things up to start off the summer summer.


Favorite Fishing Streams That I'll Post On The Internet (by state)

WA - Sol Duc River
This emerald beauty has been a favorite of mine for over 30 years. There's so much variety, and you can always find a stretch to yourself. You can catch a steelhead in the Sol Duc any month of the year. If you time it right you can get into king, silver, and even sockeye salmon. The cutthroat fishing is really underrated.

ID - Big Wood River
A small, pretty river lined with cottonwoods. Lots of spunky rainbows with some browns in the lower river. Fishing the Big Wood kept me off of therapeutic drugs during a particularly nasty period of life. My favorite stretch is between Bellevue and the North Fork, but don't be afraid to fish below Magic Reservoir in the fall.

MT - Blackfoot River
A must-do if you've read A River Runs Through it. I don't care if you saw the movie. I like it best between Ovando and Scotty Brown bridge. Great fishing for bows, browns, cutts, and bulls. Stop in at Trixie's when you get off the river.

OR - McKenzie River
Another gorgeous west-side river that is a great all-day float in the summer. Go below the hatchery if you're after steelhead and king salmon, above if you want to catch trout and want less company. IfI I didn't live in Washington, I'd probably have wound up in Oregon fishing the McKenzie all the time.

AK - Deshka River
This was a fantastic four day float. Fly into a lake, blow up the raft, float down the outlet to the Deshka. Eagles, moose, beaver, etc. will watch as you start off by catching grayling and rainbow trout. Dream of brown bears when you pitch the tent on a sand bar each night. If you go in June, you can catch king salmon on the lower end of the float.

UT - Provo River
There are still times and places on the river when you can fish without crowds. If you do, you'll be rewarded. I've had some all-time best days on this little river. I've also gone there, looked at all of the SUVs and driven the hell out.

CA - Yosemite Creek
A small creek with mostly small trout, but the location is large. There's something mystical about fishing around the polished granite boulders and chutes for pretty little cutties. If I lived closer, I wouldn't put this creek on the list, but what the hell, go fish it, who knows when or if I'll get back.

Yellowstone
Way beyond being included in mere statehood, this is trout fishing Mecca. The park is literally all good, except where the water is hot enough to cook the fish. Just a flat-out spiritual quality place. There is just something in Yellowstone that grabs me deep down. Pick a favorite out of all of it? It would probably be the upper Lamar River in the fall. Don't die without making the pilgrimage.

OTHER FAVORITE STREAMS
Yakima River - WA, Skykomish River - WA, Metthow River - WA, Hoh River - WA, Skagit River - WA, Silver Creek - ID, Big Lost River - ID, St. Joe River - ID, Salmon River - ID, Galletin River - MT, Madison River - MT, Ruby River - MT, Bitterroot River - MT, Smith River - OR, Sandy River - OR

Oh, there are plenty of favorite streams that will never be printed here, including the one I want my ashes scattered in. Half the fun of finding such places is keeping them secret with the few people you can trust.

To My Buddy Steve

I still can't accept the fact that we might have taken our last fishing trip together. I know you were trying to nudge me in that direction yesterday. I don't want to talk about you giving me your float tube. I can see how hard it is for you to walk now, how hard you have to work just to talk, and eat, the absolute struggle it is to get in and out of a car.

I accept that your life has made me take a long hard look at my own and to examine again just how little time we get here. Screw the yard, to hell with the dripping faucet, I don't give a damn if the pickup is dirty. How many more days do I get to fish, to hunt, to smell the cottonwoods, to feel warm granite, to listen to an elk bugle, to taste fresh king salmon? How many more days do I get with you, my other friends, with my brothers and their families, with my mom or with my dad?

No life is not fair. Not even close. Life is good? Makes for cute bumper stickers and T-shirts. It sure seems better for some than others. You had it good before this damn disease hit you. I know life wasn't always the bowl of cherries, but it isn't always so for anyone. I know, I know, that's what make the sweet times sweet. Damn.

The Kids Are All Right...

With only two days to go, I am completely spent. It usually takes two weeks at the start of summer to get the energy back. This is the hard thing for people to get who've never done it. Just how emotionally, physically, and even spiritually spent you get from the job.

And I've come to the conclusion, it's not really the kids that drain the batteries all the way down. It's what other adults heap on you. It's the absentee parents that expect us to raise their children for them. It's the politicians that want to blame us for a school system they refuse to fund adequately because schools don't pay for their re-elections. It's the fringe element in education who don't want to work with kids but who want to travel around and have the taxpayers pay them to tell us how we should be doing things.

I'm not tired of having the smiling faces greet me at the door. I'm not tired of working my butt off to see the proverbial light finally come on behind the eyes. I'm not tired of giving up the extra hours of what could be my own time to coach the kids who need that time and activity to keep them out of trouble.

No, I'm tired of the endless piles of paperwork and the e-mails that seem to come back to life more times than Jason and Freddy Kruger combined. I'm tired of explaining to parents that that have sat by like a dormant volcano, never lifting a finger to hold their child accountable for months, only to erupt with a few days left in the school year when their child won't pass and now they're faced with the inconvenience of summer school.

It's times like these when I can see how some of those understaffed USPS workers can "Go Postal." Two more days, a bottle of 1800, and days out on the river will patch it up all over again. After 22 years, I just wonder how many more I have in me before I finally won't want to answer the bell again at the end of August. Hopefully it's still a long ways off.

That Midlife Thing

I guess this is that time in life. Back when Dad was acting pretty strange after their divorce, I remember asking Grandpa if he went through some sort of midlife crisis, he just said, "Hell, I never had the time!"

I'm thinking it has to do with changing your mindset. When I was younger, it was always a matter of what I was going to do some day, what my potential was, what paths I would take? Now I begin to realize that some potential doors are closing, that I do not and will not possess certain traits I admire, and there is only a finite amount of time to accomplish a seemingly infinite amount of dreams and goals.

I also think that men tend to pine for what they perceive they have missed out on. I think this is why many family men buy the Corvette or run off with the secretary, looking for that adventure they didn't have living the culdesac lifestyle. I think it's why guys like me who have climbed the mountains, jumped out of the planes, ran the wild rivers, begin to miss the family that never materialized. What would it have been like to marry that sweet girl years ago, wake up next to her now, and be sending the kids off to college?

Not that there are serious regrets. I've been a lucky bastard. I've had a chance to realize many a goal, been blessed with a great extended family, a few solid friendships, and have worked at a career that has allowed me to be a positive force in many lives. I wondered what it was going to be like to get to this stage in life. In many ways it probably hasn't completely sunk in, and in many ways I'm just damned fortunate to have made it this far.

John Wooden

We should all have such a life. Even though I never met him, The Coach has been an enormous inspiration. I'll never live up to his example, but the effort to do so has made me a much better coach, teacher, and man.

Griffey Retires

We'll miss you, Junior!

12 MORE DAYS!

12 MORE DAYS!12 MORE DAYS!12 MORE DAYS!12 MORE DAYS!12 MORE DAYS!12 MORE DAYS!12 MORE DAYS!12 MORE DAYS!12 MORE DAYS!12 MORE DAYS!12 MORE DAYS!

Season's End

Well, another track season in the books. I'm quite proud of these kids this year. I'm really gonna miss some of these eighth-graders. We had 28 qualify for conference finals, and had a great showing there.

Decided to have an outdoor ice cream party instead of an indoor pizza party. I think we have started a tradition. After the sappy speech from the head coach, the kids descended upon the ice cream like a pack of wolves on an elk.

When the junk food fix was done, it was a free-for-all on the high jump mats. Once again, it makes me so happy to still see kids have fun and entertain themselves without the aid of modern electronics or without one of us to tell them what to do. No arguments, no fights, just a bunch of kids running around enjoying each other's company.

Flyfishing Final

Well, we did it. The first ever Blaine Middle School flyfishing class was completed today. Back in March we originally had 27 kids (21 boys and 6 girls) sign up for the first class, and today eleven (9 boys and 2 girls) completed their final exam on Silver Lake. We had a blast, with kids fishing from shore, in rowboats, paddle boats, a motor boat, and some goofy, kayak-looking thing. We managed to land over 20 rainbows and cutthroat on flies the kids tied themselves. Ironically, the kids and/or parents who tried bait and lures were way outfished by the ones who stuck with the flies.

Turned out to be a nice day, especially during the mid-day barbecue. It was so very nice to just be able to enjoy being around some of our nicer kids and their families. It does much heart-warming to see these younguns having fun outdoors with no videos or T.V. and where the cell reception is bad enough to keep all of the phones off.

Thanks to Ed Megill, Holly Bullock, Dad and Mary, and also to Klaus, Dan, Larry, and Frank of the Fourth Corner Fly Club. And also a big thanks to Jerry at Kauffmann's for donating a bunch of fine fly-tying material.

You Gotta See It!

Just put The Blindside on the T.V. What a fun flick!
I thought I had the hots for Sandra Bullock before, but now I'm positively smitten.
This is the best sports flick since Remember the Titans.

An Evening Worthy of the Title

Just a classic sloth and gluttony kind of night. So much to do, haven't done shit. Unless you count putting a load of clothes in the wash. Haven't even put them in to dry yet. House guests for the weekend, place is a heap, fridge is empty, fly class tomorrow. As soon as school gets out, I'm heading for the woods for two solid weeks to get the head on straight and the body cleaned out. Nothing but mountain biking, hiking, fishing, spey casting, and cold water swimming. Gotta hold it together until then.

If I had any brains I'd use this computer for target practice, along with the T.V.

Slivers, Rivers, and Mothers Day

Weekends just don't get much better, except the fact that the camera hid on the kitchen table again this weekend.

The ill-planned track meet (the second meet this week) that I was semi-dreading turned out to be a great kick-off to the weekend. Even with one ice pack, two bandages, and a removed splinter (stupid hurts), the meet was a resounding success for the mighty Borderites (what a stupid name for a mascot). The kids competed wonderfully, and the boys 4x100 relay was the most dramatic of the season, as the guys came from dead last to win the race without two of our fastest guys. The girls managed to kick butt in the field events as our list of female runners on the I.R. is increasing.

That was followed up by a 5 1/2 drive to Sandy, Oregon Friday night/Saturday morning. I talked my buddy Ken Hubbard into meeting me there. It seemed like a decent midway point between Bellingham and Eugene. We fished with Marty Sheppard of Little Creek Outfitters. I had met Marty's wife, Mia on the Skagit River this winter, and thought it would be fun to book atrip with them for this spring. Damned glad i did. Hubbbard and I always have fun, but Marty even made it more fun. The guy is the best casting instructor I have worked with. My casting improved a ton, and Ken had fun learning to fish a spey rod for the first time. What a warm, sunny day on the river. Just what the doctor ordered.

After fishing for a while this morning, it was time to head for Buckley for Mother's day with Mom, Tom and Family, and his in-laws. The food, as usual, was way too good, and the company wasn't badd either. It feels like summer. Not yet, dammit!

I Heart Track Meets

You know, the difference between track meets and ball games is that a track meet is more like an event. It's priceless to see a kid who you had to talk into doing an event, because they had no confidence, experience success. Priceless. There's a feeling of relaxed camaraderie you don't get when you're having to deal with playing time and defending the other team.

That first sentence reminds me of a bumper sticker I saw Spring Break in Idaho:

What's the difference between rodeo and football, baseball, and basketball? You only need one ball to play the other sports.

Yee haw!

Winning the Parent Lottery

I've been working with kids now for close to 30 years now. That's hard to believe and even harder to admit. So I've had a chance to see hundreds if not thousands of parents over the years. Some parents I've admired tremendously, and some have been total pieces of shit who should have never had kids. Most have been somewhere in between the two.

It's led me to be grateful for the two who brought me into the world. Now Mom and Dad are far from perfect, as evidenced by the fact that they are no longer together. But I've been blessed with a mom who has a great sense of humor and who loves her kids and grandkids completely and unconditionally. And I have a dad who will do anything to help those he loves, which is a pretty exclusive list to be on.

I've really been struck by this the last two weekends.

Pondering Ponderosas

So I was kicking around in the Tumor Tube for the last time yesterday, on this here lake, and I started thinkin', see. What is it about Ponderosa Pines that makes them so cool? Is it the bark? The long needles? The pine-fresh scent? The shade they give in the heat of summer? I'm not sure, but I never get tired of looking at them or being around them.

For The Joy Of It

Friday practice was great. The rain steadily getting stronger until we were down to half-a-dozen kids out on the track. Everyone else had gone for the locker room. A boys relay team was working on their hand-offs, with another boy helping them out, and we were down to one girl who had been improving her hurdling. All at once they began sprinting down the back-stretch in a spontaneous dash unencumbered by peer pressure, self-consciousness, or my voice. Just a wide-grinned race for the fun of it. And I got to see it all, my silent grin just as big as theirs.

These are the moments that make putting up with the idiocy of a government job worth it. There are still these somewhat "pure" moments when the kids are kids and enjoying themselves in a healthy, happy, in-the-moment way. We need more of 'em, but the administrators and politicians can't stand what they can't control.

Back On Track

Yes, folks, another track season is upon us. Have had over 70 sign up, with more than 60 showing up most days. Some of the most fun kids at school with us this year. Going from coaching throws to coaching sprints, hurdles, and high jump will be quite the challenge. Been lucky with the weather, lately. Can hardly wait 'til the meets begin, to see what we really have.

More Spring Break Photos

Feeling Alive

I guess the day-to-day becomes a little too robotic at times and I need to get uncomfortable to feel alive. Take this last week's trip to Stanley. Sub-zero temperatures in April? Snow being driven by the wind into the earhole? Felt boots frozen so solid they feel like wearing ice-blocks! I loved it!

Of course catching fish in crystal-clear water and spending time with friends not seen in five years were happiness-induced experiences. But it was the uncomfortable times, the in-your-face, I-dare-you-to-stay-out-in this that really put the smile back on the old mug.

Absolutely fantastic to spend time with my buddy of many adventures again, and watch him get his first steelhead then many others. Good to know Mick would appreciate it, cold and all, too.

Could have used another week.

Highs, Lows, Snap-Ts and Snake Rolls

It's all the proverbial blur. Thursday started off and continued for most of it as a "shouldn't have bothered getting out of bed" day. Murphy's Law was in full effect at school, handling fights, flights, meetings and beatings. Manage to bulldoze through the fly class with no-shows from kids and adult volunteers. Damned border bastards. Broke the cell phone, had to get a new one as it was indispensable in pulling off one major juggling act after another. But it did all work out one way or another, and the evening turned into a good one, making new friends, and swapping good stories until the wee hours.

Friday, waking up for the yearly physical tests proved to be a challenge. Not looking forward to the results. The rest of the day proved to be one of grand enlightenment and making the best of being an outsider looking in.

Saturday, watching the casting demonstrations on the Skagit by some of the masters was a lot like watching batting practice at Safeco Field. A fun evening and an early turn-in capped the day off.

Today got up early, got to hang out with my favorite mom. You know you're in the right place when taking a nap isn't considered a rude thing. Spending time with Steve is becoming increasingly precious and increasingly tough. He gave me a new fly rod he had custom made, this coming from a guy who knows he's going to be out of work for good in about 15 months. Took all I had not to lose it then. It's tough as hell seeing someone so active deteriorating physically. I gotta get him out fishing while he still can. Conversely, it was so relaxing to hang out with the Hurleys. Ollie appears to have done very well in the girlfriend department, seems like a great young gal. Looking forward to fishing with Mick in Idaho during the break.

Tired. Tired. Tired.

Thank God for Shoulders

Because if it weren't for shoulders, my arms would fall off right now. Got an invitation to go whitewater rafting down the North Fork Canyon today. way over weight? No problem. Out of shape? No problem. Haven't lifted weights since October? No problem. Haven't hit whitewater since the Big Swim on the Arkansas? No problem. Ya right.

Met Ed and Audrey and friends at Paul's place in Glacier. Water was low and clear, weather unseasonably warm. Can you say technical rafting? Great day out on the river and a chance to watch Paul, a true master, at work. A master but for one little raft-wedging and guide-swimming episode. No blood, no foul. Ed and Kyle were also hard at it in the aspiring-guide-in-training raft.

Followed up by beers and stories at Paul's. It was good to talk the river talk again. More motivation to get off my lazy ass to back up the talk again.

Back At It

Fly Fishing Class - Day Two

The casts are getting smoother, the flies are looking neater. Twenty-two showed back up today. Smiles everywhere. Ed and Holly's guidance is already starting to show. We're moving on from Wooly Buggers. Tuesday we will step up to the Nyerges nymph and the damselfly nymph.

Gotta get out and fish this weekend.

I Get By With a Little Help...

Help and friendship can arrive when least expected.

So I submitted that proposal to do the fly fishing class. Did I think the big cheese would go for it? No. Did it get the stamp of approval? Yes. Did I think many middle school kids would want to learn how to fly fish? No. How many did? Twenty-seven, with more saying they wish they would have turned their form in.Great, now how do you teach flyfishing to 27 kids?

Talk about lucky. Enter Ed Megill. Professional guide and fellow fan of the Nooksack and other rivers. Ed was not only willing to help out, but fired up about it! Well, with the help of Ed and another lucky break from Holly Bulloch, a school mom who knows how to fish and who used to tie professionally, we managed to pull of the first day. Almost all of the kids had a good time (Hopefully the two whiners will go back to the X-Box). And they're excited for more.

Back at it again tomorrow. Look at this weather, it's starting to smell fishy for this weekend.

First & Last

Last couple of weekends.

Last weekend was the last on some of my favorite steelhead water. Saturday was rainy and the water high, but I got a few fish to come out and play, which was nice. It was also nice to hang out at the Miller Tree Inn again, home-away-from-home. It was not so nice to have the Hotel Toyota not want to get in gear. But a call to Mick, The All Mechanical One helped me get the beast on the road. Sunday broke out the fly rod, and smacked the first mosquito of the year, what a warm winter. Water conditions were perfect and the fish were active. Barely got the truck home, having to turn it off and shift into first to get moving.

This weekend helped on a stream restoration project yesterday morning, felt good to get involved with the community a bit. Got home and figured it was time to take on the jungle. First time mowing the lawn for the year, last one on the street to do it. Gotta finish up before the rain hits. Inside the house still looks like shit. Too much time on the computer, checking out fiberglass flyrods.