Gone Fishing ...

I am getting ready for some tavel which includes fishing ... so I have been going through my gear. Several things were pretty obvious right of the bat, my 5 piece Winston 3 weight rod is packed in a steel and brass container -- indestructable yes, but quite heavy, and my eight weight bass rod has no case at all. Nothing at all against Winston -- but packing thier rod in a bullet proof case is good for them, since they offer a lifetime full replacement guarentee. The case weighs almost a pound (15.5 oz.). and is 3 inches longer than the rod.

So off I went to work on a solution. Since I recently put a "Gone Fishing" sign up in my window and have virtually no worries for the next few months, I have time for stuff like this. I went off to the local chain fisherperson supply store looking for a new case for both. For the eight weight I found a simple 48" case and trimmed it down to match the 3 piece length of 29 inches, expoxied one of the old caps in place and voila, it's done.

For the 5 piece rod I found a small adjustable tube case, about two inches in diameter, and cut it down to 21 inches. In doing this I reduced the weight by 10.5 oz. and reduced the length of the case over the original by 2 and 3/4 inches. Awesome - and the whole business with the reel weighs just 14.6 oz.

Umm ... I am going fishing.

We the People ...

Reposted from 1, 8, 10 and 11 July 2008 regarding a backpacking trip in the Kalmiopsis Wilderness in Southern Oregon.

1 July 2008




In a few days I'll be going back to the Charcoal Cathedral. On this trip I may actually miss the Biscuit Fire. I don't know because this is new. Everytime I have been to the Kalmiopsis wilderness, I have seen the result of the Biscuit Fire. I'll be going in to the Illinois river at Pine Flat. It's a fair piece upstream from my last trip. 4 days, 1 old river, 2 old friends, 2 old dogs.

8 July 2008

Day one included a two and a half hour drive from Grants Pass, OR to the Illinois River Trailhead at Briggs Creek near Miami Bar on the Illinois River, and a forty-five minute hike to Panther Creek, where we eeked out a rocky camp. Let's all keep in mind that we are still in the charcoal cathedral.

The camp at Panther Creek, just outside of the Kalmiopsis wilderness.

Next, York Creek Botanical Area, and the trail to the Illinois River near Pine Flat.

10 July 2008


That sign used to say "Entering the Kalmiopsis Wilderness" or something like that. It was torched during the Biscuit Fire.

The Illinois River.

A carnivorous Pitcher Plant in the York Creek Conservation Area

Ummm ... What is this Yellow Flower? Also in York Creek. Michael Parker of Southern Oregon University has helped me to identify this flower as a California coneflower, Rudbechia californica. Thanks Michael.

Jim shooting a picture

11 July 2008


... spent a couple of days in camp along the Illinois river at Pine Flat. Out in the open grassy flat we found the carcass of a bottle rocket that looked recently used. Fear and anger rise. Fear of being trapped by a fire, and anger that someone would take such a high risk over something so foolish. How could anyone be in this charred wilderness and actually consider using fireworks. To any one that would actually think of doing such an insane thing let me say this: Please don't go into the wilderness to shoot off fireworks, please continue to do that only inside your own house, so the damage will be restricted (hopefully) to only your stuff.

I saw a turkey, and a red fox. The red fox made an cranky, angry, loud, scary, run off your enemies, frightful sound. I have never heard a noise like that except maybe the time I heard the racoon lovemaking -- which is ummm ... really noisy. Anyway -- the fox came by the camp during the night to make that same noise while we were sleeping, or so I heard later.


This is Jim wearing the Albert Einstien hat with grass stuffed underneath it to keep the mosquitoes from drilling through the bandana into his head. I'm an advocate of the Albert Einstien hat, which is a bandana with a knot tied in each of the four corners. Any sculptor or physicist will immediate understand how this turns a flat rag into a bowl shaped hat.




The Sierra Designs Light Year in camp.

East of Phoenix

"See you on the other side," I say.

"The other side of what," is the usual response.

The void, the abyss, that place where everything is meaningful, where it's all meaningless; the wilderness.

I know, I know. Isn't that being just a bit melodramatic. Of course, but just a bit. I am in a campground in East Mesa, gwarfing a soda and typing this dribble into my Blackberry. There's a starbucks just a few blocks away. Showers and flush toikets. Not much like the wilderness. Nevertheless, entering a place like the Sonoran desert is a bit risky. Even as an idle camper, a fall can be catastrophic. Disorientation can lead to disaster. Bad planning can be fatal.

Traveling in the wilderness offers certain hazards. In the Sonoran desert the hazards are severe. In the Superstition wilderness they are at thier most extreme. There are no berries to pick, no rivers to bathe in, water is rare, hard to find and unreliable. The landscape is course and steep, the trails confusing and rarely travelled.

When I enter the Superstitions I do it with the grave seriousness and respect they deserve. At every opportunity this wilderness picks and tears at the human body, scratching, cutting, burning ... It's hardball.

To be in a place of such glorious beauty, such austerity, difficulty ... well it's sublime; profoundly good. To be back on this side, reasonably intact, is also good. To see an end to the thorns, the 105 degree temps, the humidity. To rest, to prepare to do it again, to have bragging rights or a good story to tell, is all good stuff.

I spent two days in the Superstition wilderness last weekend. The Happy Hiking Guy and I hiked from the Peralta trailhead to Le Barge Spring in a big ugly loop. It was largely uneventful, just two guys in the desert sun, a shitload of wilderness, and 16 miles of pain.

Day One, Miami Bar to Panther Creek

Day one included a two and a half hour drive from Grants Pass, OR to the Illinois River Trailhead at Briggs Creek near Miami Bar on the Illinois River, and a forty-five minute hike to Panther Creek, where we eeked out a rocky camp. Let's all keep in mind that we are still in the charcoal cathedral.

The camp at Panther Creek, just outside of the Kalmiopsis wilderness.

Next, York Creek Botanical Area, and the trail to the Illinois River near Pine Flat.