Holy Crap We Actually Did It!

Some of you may remember a previous post about Seth and I signing up for a 5K race.... the Snowman Shuffle. It was our attempt at forcing ourselves to run on a regular basis to try and get in shape.


Well, after training diligently for 8 weeks, race day (December 6th) finally came. The weather was beautiful that morning and I was very nervous and excited for my very first race. The race started at 10:00am, but Seth and I were both up and raring to go at about 7:00am. We wanted to make sure we got up to Brigham City with enough time to get our sweatshirts and do a warm-up walk, so we arrived at about 9:00am.




I was surprised at how many people ended up coming to the race. The route followed the area around the Eagle Mountain Golf Course and the old World War II Army hospital buildings.




Seth pulled ahead of me very early in the race and stayed in the group with the faster runners. He did very well and ran the whole time... even up the very steep hill by the golf course towards the middle of the race. He came in 35th place overall with a time around 26 minutes (I'll update this when I can get the exact times).




The Snowman Shuffle course was pretty challenging... very hilly. It was definitely harder and probably about a half-mile longer than what we had trained on, so I thought we both did really good. I was at the back of the middle group (or the front of the slower one!) and came in 56th place overall with a time around 32 minutes. The benefit of me coming in way behind Seth was that he was able to get the camera and take some really flattering pictures of me crawling across the finish line.






Seth mainly wanted to run in a 5K so that he could get a t-shirt. We ended up getting sweatshirts so that was even better. Seth was a little disappointed because red isn't his signature color. I however look ravishing, especially when flashing my million dollar smile.

We both decided that signing up for races was a great motivator for us. I'm sure we'll be signing up for another one soon!

Look We're Festive!

After going for about 4-5 years without a Christmas tree, Seth and I decided this was the year to get one. We didn't have much room for a tree in our apartment, but we squeezed it in! I think it turned out pretty good and Gracie hasn't even torn it down yet!

Thanksgiving

This year Seth and I spent Thanksgiving with his family up in Idaho. It was nice to have a long weekend to just relax and hang out doing what we like most.

We didn't have our Thanksgiving dinner until Friday so we went out trolling on Thanksgiving Day with Seth's dad on Ririe Reservoir. It was a beautiful day and we almost had the lake to ourselves. It was my first time fishing from a boat and I found it very relaxing slowly gliding across the water with my line in the water, looking around and enjoying the scenery. We actually spotted a golden eagle sitting in a juniper tree near the shore of the lake.

We ended up catching 5 cutthroat/rainbow hybrids and 1 kokanee salmon. It's definitely something I'd like to do again.

Friday was pretty packed with activity. Collette and Rachel's families had both done Thanksgiving the day before and apparently it's a family tradition to go rabbit hunting on the day after. Marty, Arielle, Seth, Grandpa Hanson, and I were the only ones who ended up going because most of the others had to stay back and work on Thanksgiving Dinner #2 (or they weren't big on huntin' wabbits). I didn't know about the tradition and Seth had forgotten about it, so neither of us brought our guns. Luckily Grandpa Hanson was nice enough to let us borrow some of his.


We decided to go hunt out between Sage Junction and Mud Lake. We chased out a handful... 2 jackrabbits, 1 snow hare, and a cottontail, but didn't get off a good enough shot to take any of them home. One of the Smith's grazed the snow hare, but after trying to follow the blood trail for a while, we gave up and let him go.

Am I dreaming or is that a really hot chick with a gun?

We got back from rabbit hunting just in time to help finish up the last couple dishes for Thanksgiving dinner. The food turned out amazing and of course we all ate way too much and had a great time doing so. Grandma Hanson's turkey was delicious and Rachel was the most talented turkey carver we'd ever seen.

On Saturday Seth and I went out fly fishing with Grandpa Hanson on the South Fork of the Snake River. It was a rainy/snowy day but it was fun nonetheless. We caught mostly whitefish and a couple browns. Of course Grandpa out-fished both of us. Every time we looked over he was reeling in another one!

We spent the rest of the weekend catching up on old "Perfect Strangers" episodes with Grandma Hanson, saw the giant trevache (catapult) that the Smith's built, and met up with a couple of Seth's old buddies. Oh and we also found out that Gracie LOVES road trips (OK not really).

It really was a great weekend and as usual we were sad to come home. We can't wait to go back up to Idaho again soon!

The Purist

Lately I've been reading a book by John Gierach called "Death, Taxes, and Leaky Waders." It's the first book I've read about fishing and I really love it. Not only do I love his style (personal stories with a humorist twist) but his stories are also true (well, as much as possible considering he is a FISHERMAN).

Quite often I read in bed at night before going to sleep and Seth is there with me reading a book of his own. Those who know me well know that I don't often do much more than smile when I think something is funny. Books rarely make me laugh out loud. But this book has me laughing constantly. Seth is always looking over at me like I'm crazy. I laugh at stuff that regular sane people wouldn't bother to bat an eyelash at. It's so funny to me that I can read this guy's stories and think that I have had the exact same experiences. It actually makes me jealous sometimes because I wish I had thought to write about it first. I'd like to just cut and paste his words as my own but the law calls that "plagiarism"... government... always trying to hold me down.

Anyway, back to my point. In one of the chapters of his book, Gierach talks about fly fishing 'purists'. He labels a 'purist' as one who "fishes exclusively with a fly rod, .... he owns a spinning rod and sometimes uses it, but he doesn't take it seriously, doesn't talk about it much (is, to tell the truth, a little embarrassed about it), and stores it separately from his fly tackle." OK, so maybe I'm a purist. Are you happy? I said it. I'M A PURIST!

I guess fly fishing is kind of like religion. Whatever YOU believe is 'right' and you wish that everyone would just see the light and realize that your way is best. It's not that you look down on other people, you just feel sorry for them because they are missing out on something so much better. Then you try to secretly convert them to your way of thinking by using some sort of tricky covert tactics. They don't realize this of course until it's too late.

In all honesty, up until Thanksgiving weekend this year I thought I was a purist. Fly fishing was the only way to go. I owned a spinning rod, but I thought of it as you would a bike with training wheels. I was too old for that now... too smart... too talented. I'd use it occasionally maybe, just to goof around with, but I was a serious fly fisher now, I couldn't be bothered with that sort of childish riff-raff.

As part of the Thanksgiving weekend plans, my father-in-law thought it would be fun to take Seth and I out trolling in his flat bottomed canoe. I had never been fishing in a boat before, let alone trolling, so I decided to at least try it. Maybe I'd get lucky and catch one of those giant lake fish or something.

I have to admit I was a bit skeptical though. The thought of just sitting on a slow moving boat all day waiting for some fish to bite the line didn't sound like it'd be my cup of tea. I'm not much of an ice fisher because I don't like to just sit and watch a bubble all day. Ditto for the worm and bubble setup on a lake. The bubble is my enemy. I prefer to constantly be casting and moving.

So, there we were, the three of us out on this little boat in the middle of a deserted reservoir. It took a minute to get used to the fact that there was a seemingly endless abyss of frigid water right underneath me, but soon I was relaxed and was just along for the ride. I had to admit it was beautiful.

We trolled along the outside edge of the lake with our copper spooned leaders dragging in the water. I finally learned the reason for the reverse setting on my spinning rod. Wait a minute... did I just say SPINNING ROD? I thought I'd swore those off for life! I was a purist now. Only fly rods right? Wrong.

OK I admit it. I used a spinning rod and I liked it. I liked sitting there in the boat lazily fishing and gazing at the deep green water and blue sky. It was one of the few times that I honestly did not care if I caught a fish or not. I lounged around in a cramped little boat all day eating Hostess chocolate donuts with worm guts on my hands and drinking Dr. Pepper and I liked it. We did catch some fish by the way, but it was more of a pleasant side note. The icing on the cake.

So maybe I'm not a purist. Not quite anyway. Crazy things happen when you keep an open mind and try new things. I better watch out.

The Secret to Understanding Women

The million dollar question men always want answered is "What do women really want and how do I understand them?" Being a woman myself, I believe I can usher in some valuable insight. If you understand fish, you know all there is to know about women.

This weekend I was very excited to get out and go fishing. Why? Because I had the new secret weapon. I invented a custom made sow bug. The fish I'm after these days are all about sow bugs. They love them.

The sow bug I currently use is a pattern from the local fly shop. It's called a PMS (ironic, I know). It's a light tan-ish grey color with a hot pink head. The fly works very well, but I knew that I could come up with something better. Those fish would want my fly, they just didn't know it yet.

Little known fact: I keep bug samples from the local river in little glass jars in my sock drawer.
When I designed my new fly I pulled out all the stops. I matched the exact color. I matched the exact size. I put little antennae and tails on it. I could hardly tell which one was real (well, almost). I even weighted the thing with lead on the hook before I tied it up so the 'drift' would be perfect. I tied up about ten of them because I was sure it was going to be the next great pattern. I had to make sure I had enough for myself and for the other fly fishermen on the stream that were sure to come begging for them.

I can't tell you how excited I was to try out my new fly. I had to hold back from pushing my husband out of the way to get to the best part of the river first. I was finally there. I was standing in the river in the best hole and now I was going to catch so many fish my head would spin.

Long story short I fished for an hour with my new fly. During that time my husband caught several fish on the good old standby... the PMS. I didn't catch anything. With great hesitation and sadness, I finally gave in. Those fish did not want what I had. They didn't care how much love and care and meticulous planning and effort went into making it. They didn't want it and that was that. I swallowed my pride, put on a PMS and caught fish.

Now for you men out there that are completely confused... stay with me. I'm about to answer your question. What do women want and how do you understand them?

Why does a fish readily eat something that looks nothing like a sow bug and ignore my fly that looks like the real thing? Why will a fish eat a flashing spinning gold rectangle with red dots on it and not a lure that looks exactly like a fish? Why? BECAUSE THEY CAN. Because they know it frustrates the hell out of you and somehow makes you want more. Figuring out what they want is the fun part. Trying to win them over with what you've got is the whole reason for fishing. It's too easy to just go with what you know works. It's the thrill of the hunt. If I told you what us women want and what makes us tick, it'd take all the fun out of it. It's part of the game and you know you like it. That's why you keep coming back for more.

Foul Hooked Whitey

Right now I'm sitting at my desk at work, thinking about my fly fishing trip up on the Weber River this last weekend, and smelling the empty plastic container that held my spaghetti lunch just a few hours ago. During lunch the savory smell of the spaghetti was heaven to my senses as I wolfed down the noodles to fill my empty growling stomach. Now the container has been sitting on my desk for a few hours and the smell has become more of a putrid nuisance. Apparently it is too difficult for me to rinse out the thin coating of spicy tomato sauce that lingers on the sides of the dish. I prefer to sit here and be disgusted and annoyed. Funny how an empty spaghetti container can bring me back to fishing. Of course, just about anything can make me think of fishing.


Not more than a couple weeks ago, I thought I had conquered my Weber River nemesis. It became my favorite spot. It had everything I had ever dreamed of: beautiful surroundings, close proximity to my home, plentiful fish that I could catch. Not much has changed really, except for the fact that although it still contains plentiful fish, I can no longer catch them.


But that alone isn't exactly true. I caught fish there, just not legally. You want a foul hooked whitey? Coming right up! This week I didn't catch a single fish by hooking it in the mouth. Not one. Foul hooking fish (on accident, I might add) isn't quite as bad as getting skunked, but it's right up there on the same level.


In each hole I fished, I could see at least 15-20 whitefish. You'd think at least one of them would be dumb enough to eat my raggedy looking sow bug. I watched as the school of fish purposely dodged my flies and lined up to let them pass by. At least I gave them some exercise. Sure I may have been too lazy to tie up some decent looking sow bugs before I left that afternoon, but should I really have been punished so harshly?

What chaps me more than anything is that I know whenever I have a less than stellar fishing trip, 90% of the time it's my own fault. Just like this smelly spaghetti container sitting under my nose, I sit here and suffer because I'm too indolent to fix the real problem. It's impossible to be a phenomenal fisherman and remiss at the same time.

I Had To!

OK so I know you're all like, "Why doesn't she write about anything but fishing?.... BORING......" Well my answer is... TOO BAD! That's the only exciting thing I ever get to do so that means you all get to hear about it!

I mainly just wanted to post the pictures and brag about the gigantic fish that Seth and I caught last weekend, so if that means I have to write a little bit then so be it. In all fairness, Seth kicked my butt on this trip. I had a pretty crappy go of it until the very end of the day when I caught a huge rainbow. They all seemed to be lining up to jump onto Seth's line. Oh well, I've had my fair share of extremely good fishing days, so I figured I'd let him have one!

We fished on the inlet of Echo Reservoir (I believe it's still considered the Weber River up there). I spent most of my day being pissed off and untangling my line. Seth spent the day whooping and hollering about another giant fish. He was pretty excited and having a lot of fun, so I still had a good time nonetheless.