Quaking Aspens

The greatest part about being awake at 5am is the serenity. Life seems to take a break. The cool air refreshes. It is so quiet that if you listen carefully you can hear the sky whisper. It whispers of the coming day, of the hot sun, and the billowing clouds. The sky whispers of hopes and dreams yet to come. As day climbs closer and closer, and the morning stars drift farther and farther, I pause and wonder why I don't wake up at 5am more often. Its sad how it takes an extraordinary event in my life for me to wake up and witness such a majestic display. And a little ironic that the extraordinary event is an attempt to take the life of another living creature.

It used to be a large family affair. We'd all get together, brothers, parents, sisters, grandparents, aunts, and uncles. Annually this was a time of excitement. To some we may have been attempting to murder innocent creatures. Others would call it bow hunting. For me it was a a bonding experience. Over the years it has dwindled from a larger family gathering to a small intimate family outing. Usually just my dad, brothers and myself. But with dwindling numbers the depth of meaning has only deepened.

On this morning I found myself staring at the breaking dawn with my dad and youngest brother. All the others had moved away. We crossed the stream, stumbled through sagebrush and found our way to the base of a rolling ridge. We climbed up through the quaking aspens to the first of many deer highways crisscrossing the ridge.

"We'll take this trail." My dad said. "And you take the higher trail. Walkie talkies on channel 1. We'll meet at the flat rock."

"Okay."I replied and continued towards the top. Looking down the ridge the trees gaped open, revealing golden rolling hills slowly being illuminated by the rising sun. I took a deep breath and began along the trail.

"Soft" I thought. I need to step softly. Thousands of leaves whispered their secrets. I didn't whisper back, but I wish I had. What was I stalking? Deer, maybe. But mostly a fleeting feeling. Kind of like the feeling of letting go. It was like standing on a cliff edge. Thoughts and fears crowd your mind. Some unknown force pulls you forward. At first you resist, but then the cliff slides from under your feet and you fall. As you fall your mind clears and becomes so light that you begin to float down, spiraling like a feather. That was what I stalked.

A branch snapped off to the right, breaking my contemplations. A beautiful buck, bounded from about ten yards away to thirty-five. It stopped and stared at me for a few minutes. I could see the muscles quivering, eyes sparkling, and nostrils flaring. It was majestic. My heart raced. In my hand I held a weapon of destruction. I could raise my bow, draw back and attempt to end this life. But could I? With a wild snort the buck bounded away.

I sat down. And waited. For my mind to clear? For the buck to come back? For another chance? It doesn't matter. I waited.

After a little while I stood up and went to find my dad and little brother.

Some people may say that my hunt wasn't successful. In some regards they were right. But for about 20 seconds I experienced that elusive feeling that I had been stalking.

Fish Talk: The Lure

There are many ways to fish. You've got bait, flies, lures, artificial bait, etc. etc. My point is that for a successful fishing trip you need to select the right method for the right fish. Now here's the thing, I've only lived 22 years on this beautiful earth, and most of my fishing is in mountain lakes, so my experience is limited. But as far as I can tell trying to catch a fish is like trying to get a date with a girl. You've got to use just the right combination of flash, tastefulness, and edibility. Whether its fish or girls it takes precision, planning, and being able to think on your feet to succeed.

There are a lot of factors that can affect the outcome of your fishing. The biggest and most unpredictable factor is personal taste. You never really know what a fish or a girl will bite on. But for every factor that can't be predicted you have another that if properly identified can lead to success. A few of the most important factors to be identified are: water currents, how the fish are feeding, the weather, and depth.

Basically you have two approaches once you've considered the factors. You can either try and blend in with the natural environment or you can shock and awe with uniqueness. If you decide to stay natural; watch for bugs and insects, and try to emulate those. This works because it plays to the comfort of the fish. But if you want to have your lure stand out try something a little bit flashy. Like a golden spinner. This method catches the light and leaves the fish intrigued. Therefore the fish is likely to strike at the lure. Use these same concepts with girls.

As a disclaimer each and every fish or fishing hole is unique. These are only a few of the methods and factors to choosing the correct form of fishing at any given time. My methods may not be the best for your particular fish.

Fish Talk: Secrets

Secrets:

There is no better feeling than the day you pull up to a crowded lake, everybody turns and watches as you fix up your line. Their looks say, " I haven't caught anything all day. There is no way you're going to". You pick a spot and cast. Wham. You've caught a fish. You can practically hear the other anglers, sitting in their little lawn chairs, ask, "What's his secret?"

Everyone seems to have a secret. Whether its a knot, fishing hole, lure, or way of reeling, its as important to fishing as the fish. What I don't get is how they remain secrets. All too often some guy will tell you his secret to catching the killerwhale of trout. Then you hear him telling the next guy too. Pretty soon the whole lake knows. Is that really a secret?

Anyways, you need a secret. It doesn't mean you have to go tell the whole world. But the day you have a secret is the day that you are a true fisherman. When you first start out I recommend keeping your secrets to yourself. The only thing more embarrassing than telling a guy your secret and it not working for him is when you tell him and then it doesn't work for you.

Through the years I've heard many secrets, and I've had many of my own secrets. Here's one that I'm willing to pass along. One day I was fishing at a reservoir with my dad, uncle and cousin. It just so happened that I started catching fish. I looked to my right. My cousin had his line tangled up and the only thing he caught was himself. My uncle was on my left and hadn't caught much. My dad was nowhere to be seen. My uncle asked, "Zac whats your secret?" At that moment I realized one of the most important fishing secrets. It's all about luck.

Fish Talk (This is a new segment of my blog. Its all about fishing, my experiences, and how to fit in as a fisherman.)

Fishing is great. It can be relaxing, exciting, frustrating, and awe inspiring all in one. But it isn't easy to be a fisherman. Every community has it's do's and don'ts. If you do the do's but not the don'ts you'll fit, but if you do the don'ts and not the do's you won't. These are a few of the do's and don'ts I've noticed for the fishing community.

St. Buds Day*

What's that?
A challenge, a feat!
Be not afraid to say, 'I'll step forth upon this day'.

We may die.

Yet if we live, the few that may, upon this day brothers we'll be made.
For that
I shall be glad to die today.

Scared are ye?
Depart hence!
For upon this day, upon St. Buds day, there is no place for thee.
But if you stay and outlive this day, years from now you'll stand and say 'I was there on St. Buds day'.

Old age forgets.
But you'll tap your brow and manage a bow.
For we happy few, we very few, will not forget
or be forgot among the best of you.


*Inspired by Shakespeare's St. Crispens day speech in Henry V, and the annual scavenger hunt

I'm Captain Hook!

I've realized that life isn't the story I expected it to be. My imagination has always been overactive. When I read a book, see a movie, or hear a story I succumb to the interweaving threads. These threads entwine around my mind until I can't escape. For days after I experience a story I run around imagining myself as the hero. This has seemed much better than facing reality. I've gone throughout my life daydreaming of the day that my destiny as a hero is revealed and I save the world. As I waited for that day I became increasing mean, selfish, disrespectful, and insincere. It's the little steps that lead a hero to their destiny, and my steps have been taking me in the wrong direction. I am the villain that I've always dreamed of stopping. I'd like to apologize for my villainous ways. As life and reality moves along I plan on changing, step by step. I'll be trying to become more considerate, harder working, respectful, loyal, and sincere. Maybe if I can accomplish these goals, one day I'll be the hero I've always dreamed of being.

Pee U, Was That You?

The problem with a blog like mine is that only people I know tend to read it. Therefore the probability of someone reading a story and realizing it is about them, is high. But at the risk of offending someone I write this anyways.

Before my wingman aka K-shizzle departed for the south pacific we had a tradition. I call it the annual birthday double. Kaleb would find a date, I'd find a date, and we'd double. As simple as that. In all actuallity it tended to be more like this. "Zac! I don't want to go on a date". I'd beg. "Do it for me, its my birthday. Kaleb please get a date. For me". He'd relent and get a date. Then my date would bail. But Kaleb would then have a date and I couldn't leave him hanging. So I'd scramble around, get rejected by almost every girl I know, but one. Which is a good thing because I only needed one date. Then just as I would find a replacement date his date would call and tell him that she had the flu and couldn't go. But then I had a date and he couldn't leave me hanging so he'd go through a similar process as mine. Eventually we'd both have dates.

Anyways it was the annual birthday double. We'd gone through the whole process of finding dates and now we were driving up the canyon to go shooting. Have you ever heard that little ditty of a song that goes like this, "Driving down the highway, going 64 when someone let a big and blew me out the door. The wheels started shaking, the engine fell apart, all because of your supersonic fart". Well driving up a beautiful canyon in late Autumn someone let a big one and nearly blew me out the door. Thank goodness for seatbelts. Typically I'd voice my displeasure at the culprit, but seeing as I was on a date I decided to be a little more delicate. I rolled down the windows. Problem solved. The date proceeded and for all acounts it was a success. Until we started back down the canyon. Then someone did it again. I nearly died right there. This was no ordinary fart. I could see the headlines of the newspaper the following day. Four Youth Die In A Car Crash Caused by Lingering Fumes. Lucky for me, and all the other people in the car, including the culprit, I had a brilliant idea that saved our lives. By this time it was too cold to unroll the windows, instead I turned up the heat as high as it would go. Our sense of smell was quickly burned out. Literally.

After the date ended I pulled Kaleb aside. "Was that you?" I asked. "No, I thought it was you" he replied. We looked at eachother and realized, one of our dates had one heck of an upset stomach.