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Manual de Lanzado
Sección de Carlos
The Downloads

Falsecast

Monday: Paul Arden
Tuesday: Harps
Wednesday: Bernd Ziesche
Thursday: Mr T.
Friday: Ray
Saturday: Viking Lars
Sunday: Bruce Richards

Ronan's report

A day last week has had me thinking the last few days. At the time, it really hadn't occured to me that my anticipation and excitement might be countered by a little dread and anxiety from my co-conspirator. Based on an enticing/vague paragraph from a guide book and a forest map, loose/poor plans were made to find a new/questionable spot on a wild/sparse trout stretch in a deep/strenuous canyon. As I sat in the cool/cold dawn air on the front steps next to by bags, wafts of steam rose up from my coffee mug. I was sure I'd grabbed everything while precious/uncounted minutes ticked away. His familiar black truck rolled into the driveway. I popped in to give my love a goodbye peck, closed the door quietly, and grabbed by stuff. And so the adventure/nightmare began.

With only one small/frustrating detour, we soon/eventually found the dirt/broken road and made our way down it. As it forked and narrowed, everything began to feel right/wrong.

A large bear was travelling the road and bolted away from us as we rounded a bend. I hadn't seen a wild bear in years found it thrilling/worrying. We stretched and wandered around the trailhead for a few minutes and found the surrounding bushes covered with berries. A pile of berry-laden scat proclaimed/screamed that we were in the wilderness.

The climb down the canyon looked tough/forbidding, so we called off the hike and headed to a more familiar water. I'm not disappointed, just a little sorry that I got my friend in where he wasn't comfortable. I've been wondering how much deeper a canyon, how much rougher a road, how close an encounter would turn me back.

~Eric

Pic Of Day