At least it wasn't her casting arm

Well, there's no shortage of adventure and excitement around here.  One day The Wife is making powder turns in the Chugach; two later she's laid out on an icy curb with a broken arm.  As Ash said upon finding out that her sister had broken her arm, "You can get down a 2,000 foot mountain but you can't go for a run around the block?" 

For those brave enough, here's a picture of the damage.

Sometimes the back-up plan ain't so bad.

The Wife and I had grand plans to ski Arctic Valley yesterday with a bunch of friends.  Arctic Valley is closed during the week so Saturday would have been the first day open since all of our new snow from the past week.  Five of us were planning to ski, but by 8:15am two had bailed out.  By 8:30 another one canceled.  And around 8:35, The Wife mentioned that she had ordered a bunch of tomato plants that needed to be picked up around 10:30.  It was becoming painfully obvious that Arctic Valley was going to have to wait.

However, with recent snows and blue bird skies, my friend Evan and I got to talking and decided to meet up for an afternoon skin and ski.  The Wife was game, so, after she collected her plants, we all met up around 12:30 and were geared up at the trail head by 1:00.

We had to skin up a snowed-in road that was guarded by a young bull moose before getting to the real skin track.  Here's Evan leading the charge.

The Wife, after gaining around 2,000 of vertical.

Getting ready for the turn around.

The Wife and I.

Evan on the descent.

The Wife getting her turns in . . .

. . . and stoked back at the bottom.

We had skied down from a saddle just out of view to the right of peak in the back-center of the picture above.  The snow was variable, with some wind crust near the top, turning into three-day-old powder for the majority of the down, and cut-up powder near the bottom.  Pretty good day for having to settle for the back-up plan.

40 inches in the last 12 hours?

Reports out of Alyeska proved a bit too much to resist so I ended up playing hooky and going skiing yesterday.

I forgot the camera, but rest assured it was amazing.

Otis bugs and leaky waders

The Wife and I have been on a whirlwind tour of Oregon over the past week.  We took a red-eye into PDX on Tuesday-Wednesday of last week, spent Wednesday through Sunday at PIELC taking in all that the world of environmental law has to offer while catching up with old friends, and then traveled down to the Medford area to catch up with my parents and chase a few steelhead.  After getting our PIELC on for a few days--which really deserves it own blog post--I was pretty beat.  I can only handle so many days of wake-up-at-7:30-after-partying-until-2:00 before things starts to wear thin.  As The Wife gently reminded me last Friday, "you're not 20 anymore."

On to the fishing . . .

My dad and The Wife and I got out on the water for a few hours on Monday afternoon.  What we lacked in caught fish I made up for in leaky waders.  Note to self, look elsewhere when your brother says the waders you're about to borrow have "a few slow leaks."  Thanks, Josh.

The Wife and I floated the Rogue yesterday, enjoying a sunny day with exceptionally low flows.  The fishing was slow, but, if you're going to have a fishless day on the river, you might as well be in a drift boat.  Short of more agreeable fish, not much could have been better.

Having struck out yesterday, I decided to give it one last go 'round for an hour or so this morning before needing to head back into town.  Yesterday's sun and low flows gave way to colder weather, rain, and a slightly off-color water clarity.  Dad and I went out first thing this morning and by the second cast I had outdone our entire prior day's efforts.

Nothing too big, but it was a start.

We were fishing the head of a run right below a long riffled bend.  I had fished this exact spot many times over the years, having caught perhaps half of all the steelhead I've ever landed here.  The river bottom is mostly cobbles, coagulated into a concrete-like substrate creating a significant underwater ledge and a series of slots and seams that fish like to hide within.  So long as you can avoid snagging a shallow spot or wading off the ledge, it can be phenomenal fishing.

After fishing for another half-hour or so, I saw a big fish roll along a seam in the current.  Taking another few steps out away from shore, I placed six or eight casts into the seam before my line made an abrupt stop and gave a few telltale head shakes.

After a few decent runs and two leaps from the water, I was able to move the fish in close, get him over the rock ledge, and beach him on the cobble shore. 

It was a wild male, just a hair over 29 inches.  He took an otis bug and made for a fine start to the day. 

. . . and using a different pair of waders, I even managed to stay dry.

Getting ready for Oregon

Work is taking me to Oregon at the end of this month and, since The Wife and I haven't visited my family in what seems like an eternity, we'll be spending a few days down in Medford visiting the folks.  With the Rogue so close and my dad's drift boat spending far too much time out of the water, I plan to chase steelhead at least a couple days. 

My best days on the Rogue have always been in the fall so I'm not sure what to expect on the fishing front.  However, I'm doing my best to load the fly boxes and it'd be a shame not to get on the water.  After all, it's hard to beat a float even if the fishing's slow.

In other news, backcountry skiing is shut down.  It's raining at lower elevations and the warm weather and new snow/rain has made backcountry skiing on anything but the flattest slopes dicy, at best.  The slope I skied in the prior post has slid and three people (two snowmobilers and a skier) died in avalanches on Saturday.  All the reason I need to stay home and tie flies.