Between work, family and home; my days are no longer my own.
I declared that Sunday should be a day in the mountains fishing. No chores-No work.
We headed over the Sierra via Carson's Pass and into Hope Valley.
The highest elevations produce these trees. I need to recall the name.
Our destination, a trout filled stream.
First attempts at fly fishing.
Climbing down to the creek to unsnag his line.
NOT his waders.....
A consultation...... where are the fish?
A view of Hope Valley. The weather was crisp and breezy.
I fished, watched clouds blow over the mountains, took pictures, and breathed deeply.
The trees aren't changing color yet. Brilliant patches of yellow aspens dot these hills in autumn.
"On the Rocks."
Cheese & crackers, a bottle of wine, NO corkscrew!
Jerry and Amy picnicking.
A parting shot as we hike out to head home.
In a couple of days, Jerry and I head to Colorado for a pack trip into the mountains. It may be warm, it may rain, it may snow, it will most certainly be an adventure.
