I left the house early last Friday morning and made it to the top of Pucker Road a bit before noon. From there it was a slow, five mile crawl down a narrow dirt trail to the bottom of the canyon.
I found Ed, cracked a beer, fired up a smoke, set up my chair, and spent the next hour or so watching him fish.
Ed had already set up his tent. It’s not a spot that I would have chosen, but he seemed confident that both he and his shelter would survive the weekend without incident.
Not long afterwards my brother, nephew, and Cornholio showed up.
After a few more beers we decided to go fishing.
Getting to the river involved a bit of rock climbing.
Once we were on the water I tied on a Sierra Bright Dot and managed to entice a couple of fish to come up and hit it.
Can’t recall if I actually landed any.
It started getting dark, so Cornholio and I went back to camp and helped Ed prepare dinner.
Apparently Balvenie and ‘farclas aren’t the only spirits that go well with 7-UP.
That night we enjoyed a fine feast.
The next morning my brother cooked up some breakfast.
While we were eating our breakfast burritos a cowboy rode into our camp and said, “You guys aren’t leaving anytime soon, are ya?”
“Because we’re about to run two hundred and fifty head of cattle up Pucker Road.”
This guy was trying to cross when the cattle came through.
After breakfast my brother and nephew went upriver and Ed went down river, while Cornholio and I fished a nearby creek.
Just about every pool in the creek held a willing trout, and we had a phenomenal afternoon of fishing.
Afterwards we went back to camp, where Cornholio whipped up some incredible egg rolls and chicken satay.
The next morning I packed up my shit and headed home.
It was a fun little trip with great company and fantastic food.