Open Roads in the Prairie Schooner

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Sakonnet
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Re: Open Roads in the Prairie Schooner

Post by Sakonnet » Thu Aug 10, 2017 1:03 am

pbrstreetgang wrote:
Thu Aug 10, 2017 12:15 am
You guys listened to a lot of Nickelback, hey?
Mikey found another one the following day while we were having lunch with his parents. He was not pleased.
Send me my fucking flies. Now. Overnight fucking Saturday Priority fucking delivery. Please? - Mr. Don

You know what they say about revenge? Dig three graves. - Porno Mike

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Bamaboy
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Re: Open Roads in the Prairie Schooner

Post by Bamaboy » Thu Aug 10, 2017 8:48 am

I'm in, This is gonna be a good one!

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root wad
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Re: Open Roads in the Prairie Schooner

Post by root wad » Thu Aug 10, 2017 12:02 pm

Something to look forward to, no matter how it goes. Well told.
"A hatchery is what you get 'when you cross a sacred cow with a military base.'" Dr. Bernard Shanks
"When I found the skull in the woods, the first thing I did was call the police. But then I got curious about it. I picked it up, and started wondering who this person was, and why he had deer horns."

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ironman
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Re: Open Roads in the Prairie Schooner

Post by ironman » Thu Aug 10, 2017 12:15 pm

Day 2



The sun hit my face at 6:00 am Cali Time – or 9:00 am NY Time, aka the usual. Someone else slept in.

I forgot my glasses at home, and they were overnighted and set to arrive no later than 1:00 pm. Initially, I thought this would cause a delay in departure to the Upper Sac. More wrong, I could not have been. So, I put my eyes in, and started the day.

John heard me mucking about and met me in the garage with a fine cup of coffee. We began to go over the truck. Being an easterner, I just couldn’t get over how solid and clean everything was.
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As you could imagine, we built a pretty solid friendship over a couple months. In May, we first met up when he was in Rochester for work. Hit a local stream with Coop, and broke bread the day before he flew back to Cali. It was a real good time, and I’m glad we had the opportunity.
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Now, KP, Fatman, and SLSS all had a hand in this trip. Each offered insight and direction on transportation and the accommodations. I’ve said it before, but thanks again guys.

Soon, the process of unpacking shipped gear, getting things organized, then stowed, began. At first glance, it looked like the proverbial 10#’s of shit, in a 5# sack. The further along we got, we realized we did okay, and there would be plenty of room. Besides not considering the amount of extended travel time associated with 60 mph across the US, the amount of time required here to pack/provision up, was most likely our most egregious error in time.
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During this time, we discovered that the double face bristle tape wasn't going to adhere The Dude to the dashboard. So MacGyver fashioned a proper perch out of aluminum flat stock. Abide.

As planned, AJ arrived at 9:00 am. The man does not care for sushi, but he is punctual. We had planned to camp and fish on Sat. Instead, he spent the day in line. Waiting on us. Patient as hell.

John made a heluva breakfast, complete with carnivorous wasps.
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I would go back to Cali. Place is infested with turkey.
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We set forth in John’s Ford Diesel Crew Cab – I didn’t change over to any of the fun settings as suggested, but man that thing was powerful.

Everything took longer than planned.
First we returned the rental.

Then hit The Fly Shop. It was smaller than you’d think it would be.
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Then Wal-Mart. Epic shitshow, as you can imagine.

Then O’Reilly Auto Parts – spare belts, all fluids and oils. C-A-T smart. Aside from oil, and a thimble each of transmission and brake fluid, the balance of these items remain in their original packaging.

Finally Dick’s, for JetBoil fuel and because I really had to have the blue enamelware camp kitchen set – they tied the room together. To no avail.

Back to John’s to finish up and head out.
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We had planned to use the Yeti as our step in and out of the camper. In the end, we traded John a bottle of Pliney for a shorty step ladder. This proved to be a good investment.

Before we hit the road, John treated us to another fine meal with his family – chicken and beef tacos, rice and beans, and AJ’s famous pico and guac (he didn’t mind sharing, as we’d fukked the timeline, and decided we’d stay at Wayne’s instead of setting up camp at o dark thirty).

John’s Dad brought out some vintage fly tackle to show us. Some really cool pieces that were his father’s. He hands me one of the items, a fishing license holder from the 50’s, and says this was also my father’s and I’d like you to have this. I decline, saying pass this on to John and his 3 boys, not me. He wasn’t having any of it, and insisted, saying he had his boys covered. A great honor.
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At about 6:00 pm, John fired up Old Rusty for the last time, and we headed north to Wayne’s. No turning back now. Training wheels were off. The theorizing and planning was done. This thing that had taken a fair amount of time to plan, was now a reality. Holy. Fuk. I’d be lying if I said my stomach wasn’t flipping.

53314 was the reading on the odometer. We quickly got acquainted with each other, and it wasn’t a mile off the dirt road before we stopped for fuel and ice.
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We eased out on 5, and looked forward at Mount Shasta. Short 45 minute trip to stretch our legs. All systems a go. The 390 with headers and old skool flowmasters had a nice growl and thunder through the mountains. I didn’t rear end AJ getting used to 4 drum brakes. Fuk yes.
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That evening we spent the evening knocking back nearly a fifth of Makers, sitting on the bank of the Upper Sacramento River, watching Wayne’s trout feeding eagerly, and talking about tomorrow’s plan.
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After fishing the Pit a couple days later, I'm really sorry we didn't fish the Upper Sac. My kind of river. Meaning: one can easily wade it.

AJ: please accept my most humble apology for throwing off your well constructed plans. You said it best that evening over bourbon – I knew it was going to be a long day, as this was now extended family. Wisdom. You were right. I didn’t fully realize that, until you pointed that out. John and his family, were as invested in this, as we were. Thanks for your understanding.
Last edited by ironman on Tue Aug 29, 2017 10:45 am, edited 2 times in total.
"if you don't understand the perfect logic of this, then you may as well fuck right off Teh Suk" - Fatman

"I took a Japanese whaling approach to panfishing as a kid." - Boomin

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Sakonnet
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Re: Open Roads in the Prairie Schooner

Post by Sakonnet » Thu Aug 10, 2017 12:23 pm



We spent the night in John's camper trailer and as Iron said above, it was complete with AC and fridge. Pretty nice digs if you ask me.

We woke up the following morning. Something wasn't right with me. My hearing was fucked and I could feel a cold building inside me. Those two newly weds I was sitting snoring next to on the plane gave me some kind of vodoo hex influenzar. I haven't had a cold in five years; perfect timing.

Iron scurried out the trailer to play with his new toy like it was Christmas Day.

The name hit me once I saw the rig in daylight. I give you, the Prairie Schooner.

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1974 Ford F-250; built the same year Iron and I were born.

Iron was all over it, checking it out like he was buying it a second time. As we were playing with the rig, some old retired guy pulls up in his rig.

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It was good see Jose again and even better to see he brought the gravey with him.

Now as much as we wanted to get this trip moving again, we had a shit ton of organizational work to do. The rental car had to be dropped off at the local airport, provisions needed to be secured, fishing licenses and unneeded tackle purchased. Hertz, Safeway, Wal*Mart, The Fly Shop, Dicks, O'reilly's Auto Parts. That was a few hours. Joe was smart and opted to wait in the car vs. dealing with the locals.

Back at the ranch, we then had to un-box all the gear we shipped UPS, sort it out and stow it.

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Send me my fucking flies. Now. Overnight fucking Saturday Priority fucking delivery. Please? - Mr. Don

You know what they say about revenge? Dig three graves. - Porno Mike

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BigTimber
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Re: Open Roads in the Prairie Schooner

Post by BigTimber » Thu Aug 10, 2017 12:32 pm

Prairie Schooner = Making The Drake Great Again!

And, if I do say so myself, a helluva lot more better than Clyde. Sorry, Clyde. It's not you, it's me. I'm just not that into you.
This place has enough jiggly milkbags, marsupials fisting off, and animated cherubs getting stabbed in the fuck to get anyone shitcanned, if''n their boss can''t take a joke. ~SUAF

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421sd
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Re: Open Roads in the Prairie Schooner

Post by 421sd » Thu Aug 10, 2017 1:28 pm

ironman wrote:
Thu Aug 10, 2017 12:15 pm
All systems a go. The 390 with headers and old skool flowmasters had a nice growl and thunder through the mountains. I didn’t rear end AJ getting used to 4 drum brakes. Fuk yes.
Fuk yes. :cool

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yard4sale
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Re: Open Roads in the Prairie Schooner

Post by yard4sale » Thu Aug 10, 2017 1:37 pm

Fuk California and their lines! Although I do miss that fly shop. Did you go upstairs?

Good stuff gents, keep it coming.
You can't go back and you can't stand still
If the thunder don't get you then the lightning will

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stillsteamin
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Re: Open Roads in the Prairie Schooner

Post by stillsteamin » Thu Aug 10, 2017 2:41 pm

Great so far thanks for taking the time
"There's nothing more overrated than a piece of ass and there's nothing more underrated than a good shit." -Glen Blackwood

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Sakonnet
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Re: Open Roads in the Prairie Schooner

Post by Sakonnet » Thu Aug 10, 2017 2:52 pm



Out of the desert and into the mountains.

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So we left John's homestead and headed north toward Shasta to spend the night at a friend of Jose's. After we pulled some gear from the Schooner to the guest house we walked across the street to sit on the banks of the Upper Sac. We sat and drank whiskey in the fading light while watching trout rise to a hatch of invisible flies. "Dude, WTF are we sitting around here for? I'm going to get my rod." "Can't fish now", replied Jose. "California law you can't fish after sun down." Fair enough, I guess?

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Jose, his friend Wayne, Iron and I discussed the next day's plan, emptied our cups and then walked back across the street to Wayne's place for the night. In the guest cottage we were staying in, I found a sign-in book for visitors. Some guy flew all the way from Perth, Australiar a few years before and spent the night. Hmm.

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The next morning we got packed, had breakfast at a local diner and made our way to the McCloud.

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Rough and Ready
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Follow through
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Jose just lost a nice fish at this exact moment
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Back to work
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Jose strikes again with the cripple; Wayne with the net job and release.
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I can throw out several cliches about how beautiful this river is but nothing can properly describe it. None of my pictures can capture it. I read an article about this river roughly 25 years ago. It said our home river back east, the Delaware, was stocked with rainbows from the McCloud during the 1880s. They never stocked the Delaware River again with rainbows after that. Ever since reading that article, I wanted to fish here and catch a rainbow.

Just before we walked down to the river from our campground for the evening session, a lone hiker came hobbling off the Pacfic Crest Trail with a sprained ankle. We told her to make herself at home, gave her some ibuprofen, an ice pack and told her to help herself to whatever food or drink she wanted. When we came back, she was feeling a bit better. Wayne told her he'd give her a lift back into town, but not before we had dinner and drinks.

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During that night while I was laid out in the top rack of Schooner, I woke up and saw movement through the rear hatch portal. I was half asleep so paid no mind until I saw movement again. I looked out the portal over my rack to check on Joe, who was sleeping outside in his cot. He was there sound asleep. I jumped out of my rack to see what's what. When I opened the door there was this giant deer standing over all the dirty dishes and shit we were too drunk to clean up before going to bed. This guy had the biggest rack I've ever laid eyes on. I tried to scare the deer off but at first he just stared at me and then went back to what he was doing. I had to jump out of the schooner to finally shoo him off.

When we got up at daybreak I mentioned to the other guys about the deer. Iron said he had woken up in the middle of the night and saw it too. I asked Joe if he saw it and said he said no. As we were picking up all the shit the deer knocked over Joe saw his Drake trucker hat lying on the ground. It was soaking wet. There was no dew on the ground and no liquid containers that could've spilled anything on it. "That deer must've pissed on my hat!" Fair enough, I guess?

Iron got breakfast going and Jose and I began to breakdown camp. Two hikers came passing by our site; a local dude and a chick from the Czech Republic. We had more than enough food so Iron broke out two more plates.

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We cleaned up the rest of the camp, fished the river for a little bit then started heading west with Jose taking the lead to our next campsite.
Send me my fucking flies. Now. Overnight fucking Saturday Priority fucking delivery. Please? - Mr. Don

You know what they say about revenge? Dig three graves. - Porno Mike

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fly-chucker
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Re: Open Roads in the Prairie Schooner

Post by fly-chucker » Thu Aug 10, 2017 6:12 pm

pbrstreetgang wrote:
Thu Aug 10, 2017 12:15 am
You guys listened to a lot of Nickelback, hey?
"It's like gay sex, I don't like it, but I'll listen to it" :cool
"The difference between genius and stupidity is genius has its limits." -CC

"Get off the water you dumb asses…there is a shit storm coming." -Pancho Rancho

"Fucker compared my small stream trout weenie cast to an epileptic with Tourette’s Syndrome." -Carpe Tructa

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ironman
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Re: Open Roads in the Prairie Schooner

Post by ironman » Thu Aug 10, 2017 8:18 pm

fly-chucker wrote:
Thu Aug 10, 2017 6:12 pm
pbrstreetgang wrote:
Thu Aug 10, 2017 12:15 am
You guys listened to a lot of Nickelback, hey?
"It's like gay sex, I don't like it, but I'll listen to it" :cool

Signed,
Slapshot
"if you don't understand the perfect logic of this, then you may as well fuck right off Teh Suk" - Fatman

"I took a Japanese whaling approach to panfishing as a kid." - Boomin

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