Leaf and Duke.

Rogue Angel Leaf and Duke harvesting...I can only hope to be beside her someday in one of these shots.
photo courtesy of Erik Argotti www.e-argottiphotography.com

Joy

"Joy is our goal, our destiny. Joy is what happens when we allow ourselves to recognize how good things are...."

"Joy demands that we have the audacity to embrace the knowledge of just how beautiful we really are and how infinitely powerful we are right now-without changing a thing- through the grace that is consistently born and reborn within us."

-Marianne Williamson




Merry Christmas Everyone, Thanks for everything! I wish you Joy.

My Slab of the Month

Feeling ambitious I went out to shovel snow yesterday...quickly, like 3 or 4 shovel loads, I realized shoveling with a small square dirt shovel was ridiculous..... my ambition flittered into the sky while my imagination started piling snow in one spot........yes, piling it right in the middle of the driveway....maybe it was my Mork and Mindy get up that started orbiting my mind into outerspace.....
......suddenly I saw a beautiful rooster fish, wait no it's a chum salmon, oh no, its actually a brown trout, a beautiful trout, sleek, wild adipose fin, monstrous trout....life-like....

.....well, I got a whitefish?....

Gingerbread Trout

Rogue Angel Jenny coming at us with some holiday artwork to feast upon.

Angel Posts

Rogue Angel Ade posted an entry about fishing with the angels on her blog, The Female Angle:

http://femaleangle.blogspot.com/2008/12/girls-just-wanna-have-fun.html

Check it OUT!

And there is an awesome post about this Angel Camille, on Ryan's blog, The Big Pull,

http://thebigpull.wordpress.com/2008/12/16/the-camille-chronicles/

Casting in the Dark...

The Angels take on the dark and cast into the night....

Rogue Angel Kateri

Around the Fire

After a long day fishing on the river in the rain, wonder what the Angels talk about around the campfire?


You guessed it, Casting and Fishing.

Smoking Fish

I am smoking fish and read somewhere it is good to take notes so you can refer back to them later.... Here's my notes:

Using Dry Brine, pack the fish in. 3 pts brown sugar to 1 pt rock salt. various unnamed seasonings until it smells good...eventually the dry brine sucks the moisture out and melts and wa la:

Go to Monday night football at the Peacock Bar and drink $1.00 Pabst on tap. Drink other various $1.00 drink specials based on the game...bartender tells you you either have to drink faster or stop participating in the drink specials....there were alot of moving violations....the Browns really sucked last night and the Eagles were throwing like g........golfers. Play a round of Big Buck Hunter Safari....tell an old hippie codger meat is organic....

Take fish out of brine a bit over 24 hours later....have serious hesitations, to rinse? or not to rinse? choosing both options....

Where is my expert fish smoking friend when I need him? And why did the temperature have to drop below freezing right when I am about to fire up the smoker? And where is my advil?

More fish smoking upd8s to follow, feel free to leave advice, as I know smoking fish elicits opinions equal to politics and religion...btw did I mention I listened to the election on the radio while driving to fish BC?

Fishing was a 10

Underwater Coho

We saw this coho roll, sent a spinner through the bucket, and WHAM!

Really?

It's still more expensive than gas? Really?

C'mon. Bring it down too. The Angels are out fishing and this is breaking our banks.

However, our minds are far from troublesome things like gas prices, the economy.... christmas presents,
'cause we got one track minds:



Where's your spots?

wish us luck.

All things Steelhead

Steelhead Closed? Good thing we have the....



Open it up.

--
Posted By k8 to Rogue Angels at 12/11/2008 09:12:00 AM

I believe this needs no explanation, ......BUT he couldn't have done it without us....
;)

55°56′29″N 130°3′16″W

Before this last hunting trip.......I was steelhead fishing.
I came home from Alaska, got a few things in order, bought my silver destroyer a snazzy new camper and headed north. It seems like ages ago. It was not. I don't know how I could cram so much into such a short period of time..... I've been perfecting that for years I guess.
Once in northern Canada, when the invitation to drive even further north and close to Alaska popped up I most certainly jumped at the chance, you know I've been *missing* Alaska. So we packed up the camper and drove northbound straight into winter. This cold snowy season has descended here just like in King Salmon....snow is everywhere and I am lock her down into four wheel drive even on the highway.

Naturally we stop and fish a bit...
The cold blows bitterly and spews snow. We are dancing around the river in a black and white movie.

Marginal success sprinkles over us....





With a stroke of genius, someone tells us about Hyder, Alaska and how it is customary to go the bar in Hyder and get "Hyderized". We decide it is fully necessary to get Hyderized. We excitedly chatter about bacon cheeseburgers, tap beer, did someone say "karaoke?"...the anticipation surges as our mouths water for beer and burgers and a warm stinky bar.
Busting down the road we pass bear glacier...

In the dark:



and make it into town:


Obviously we have sipped a bit on the ole...

It is necessary.

Walking into this one horse town pulls us straight into the days of Miss Kitty and Marshall Dillon. I am sure we would not be welcomed by those two tonight.

We straggle over to the Glacier Inn to see only a light on. If you have ever seen someone utterly devastated, it is nothing compared to crushing the dreams of five steelhead fishermen that have chattered incessantly for hours of burgers and beers and hopes of being hyderized...the energy is enough to devastate a normal person for life. Frantically I am searching for a way in. I spy a tiny tiny little bell and a small handwritten note:
"Ring bell for Service".

Of course I ring the bell.
And suddenly a darling older lady is running through the bar towards the door!
A blanket of doom lifts from the crowd as she opens the door and asks if she can help us.
I nervously tell her,
"We want to get Hyderized."
The split second felt like eternity until she stirred the pot with her arm and said,
"I can do that" and opened the door to our demise.


As we step inside, time warps around us. The walls are papered in money. Canadian and American, ones, fives, tens, twentys....some looking so ancient if you pulled on them the whole wall would come down. Tattered aged and brown with hand written notes and names. This Inn had obviously brought cheer to many a traveler.
As we saddled up to the bar, the sweet older lady was racking up glasses on the counter. I wasn't sure if she was going to stop and my stomach dropped at the thought of having to take several shots of liquor from a mystery liquor bottle wrapped in paper....she handed us each a small glass of water (for chasing or throwing up in) and a shot glass of mystery liquor #1. Everything burned.
And we all started laughing, we have been hyderized!!!!

How one and a half hours can feel like a whole evening is undoubtedly due to being "Hyderized", two hundred and fifty dollars later, and a few bills that ended up on the wall with our names....

Needless to say, the sweet lady's daughter drove us across the border, past the laughing guards and to our hotel....the rest is campfire talk.

Christmas List?

Wondering what to get me...I mean her, for Christmas?


A handmade fly wallet by Mac Rowdy of course!
They normally don't come soaking wet, but I just crossed hell's half acre and hell's moat up to my neck, so things got a bit sloppy....no worries, it is back to perfectly wonderful again.

Mac says you can get 20% off your order, AND get it by Christmas if you use the code:
KTAK
www.flywallets.com

And Spey Angel posted her Xmas List http://femaleangle.blogspot.com/2008/12/all-i-want-for-xmas.html

Look what Yuhina Painted!

...from one of my photos!

High In the Sky

The Tree Stand in the third game field.

Third Day or Opening of Doe Season

Third Day....Dad and I form a game plan to hunt the upper field one last time. This time we have my 13 year old niece accompanying us for the hunt.
Dad and Meredith are going to take the lower landing as we call it while I plan to situate myself to watch the whole woods line at the bottom of the field. No pushing around the big buck this morning...I will patiently wait for him to come or any other deer that walks my way....Today is the opening of doe day. Several other buddies are hunting in various parts of the property, and today is all about reducing the overpopulated herd and securing meat for the winter.

It is as cold as it has ever been this morning and I think I see frost accumulating on the toe of my boot. Ingeniously we stuck hand warmers all over ourselves, toes, hands, back, and I am actually feeling okay. I am so confident that this is my morning, I stole one of my dad's flasks...I want to make sure he gets a sip after I shoot my deer.
I wonder if he noticed it missing?
I watch a nice buck galavant directly below me along the woods line and curse its position. Shooting in this direction is off limits as there is a house at the bottom of the hill....and although you can not see it, it is there-so no shooting. I patiently wait for him to saunter up the hill into the thickets...it is out of sight...suddenly it spooks and bounds down the hill in the direction of the no shoot zone. I realize that that noise is my heart pounding in my ears at the same time I see the twitching of deer ears nearly 15 yards from where I am sitting. Haven't I learned this lesson before while steelhead fishing? ......Don't step into the water......always fish the water at your feet first....this incredible feeling of sitting so close to a small deer that doesn't even realize I am here brings to mind this stellar time I fished the Skagit River with my crusty old fly fishing mentor. He just kept drilling into my head to fish in close.... fish your feet....pay attention to the water....and leaves me to swing a fly through a tiny little window of a bucket, never casting more than 35 feet. I must say I thought it a tad ridiculous, especially after having spent time with steelheaders who go for the longest cast with the heaviest tips and the craziest flies....the only reason I had an inkling of confidence in this position is because I BELIEVED. I truly believed, I BELIEVED it was MY time, MY turn, MY river, MY steelhead gently holding in this tiny tiny tiny little bucket on this MASSIVE river and I BELIEVED I was going to hook up.
Well of course I freaking hooked up! Not a soul around to help me land this beauty, I lost it at my feet quickly rising to ride on top of the world. My ego buddy danced around in my head and reminded me of all the things I did well and how skilled I was becoming at fly fishing for steelhead. My crusty old friend came around later and reminded me how much I still had to learn....It was my first steelhead on the swing....and here I am about to take down my first deer of the season and it is literally at my feet. I am fully aware of the beating of my heart and the deep sound of my breathing as I slowly raise my rifle. The young buck is standing behind a bush ignorantly unaware of my presence and happily munching on the leaves around him. Hours posed as minutes pass while I hold the buck in the scope, slowly raising my head to see its position and lowering it again to the scope. Finally he steps beyond the bush and presents the opportunity for a kill shot, I pull the trigger, no wait!... I know better....so I take another deep breath, set the sights on my target, slowly exhale, and squeeze the trigger. Several "Oh my god I am so sorry but thank you so much for this life and the food that will nourish us this winter" go through my head before they turn to deep deep appreciation prayers for the kill. I have never so closely and deeply known my prayers were heard loud and clear. Ever.

Naturally after inspecting, etc I go fetch my father. As he walks towards me with more pride and happiness than a newborn's father, I pass him the flask and he takes a nip. (this is a relative term) Hugging me he calls me a rascal for stealing his flask.



We walk over to my kill and begin the ceremonious process of gutting. I sickly have photos of all the processes in some way shape or form, but I believe I will save those for some crazy hunting only blog some day....it is not for everyone.



But in defense for all those turned off by hunting and such, my father's property is literally OVERRUN with deer. Fish and Game Biologists flatly told his neighbor that he needed to take over a dozen deer off his 100 acres of property this year for the health of the land. The deer completely destroyed my mother's garden this year, this was the first year she ever did not have even one tomato. We also have seen a three legged deer. (Justin took care of that one) And lastly, we use almost everything. The hides get taken to a local taxidermist who makes a living from them and trades my family sweet corn, we butcher and freeze the meat for eating through the winter. And my family's three dogs eat the scraps as well as get meat frozen for eating in the late winter months. (Happiest dogs on earth)
Grinding up the scraps to make burger:

Oh Did I forget to mention that this means I'll be sitting in THE DEER HUNTER chair now?