The Neil Creek Chronicles 58°19'59"N 134°29'49"W

Another one in the Books

2009-12-31T15:56:00.000-08:00

Random Thoughts and Impressions from 2009, minus about 31,893 words.

Tramp..This picture always makes us laugh.

This one always makes us cry.

2009.

We wouldn't trade it, but we don't really want it back, neither.

See you next year.

Happy Christmahaunakwanzaakah, again.

2009-12-23T16:16:00.000-08:00

The Yule Season crept up on us this year, only to leap out of the bushes a few days ago to shout "Surprise!" at our startled countenance.

Happy Holidays? In 2 days? Really? C'mon, man...thanksgiving was like, what...a week ago?

Sure enough, it is Christmahaunakwanzaakah again, and like most arbitrary days of celebration based on highly improbable acts (see also: Easter) and only recently co-opted and corrupted by commercial interests and the materialist mentality, we could care less.

Truth be told, we don't cotton much to the gift gettin' n givin' process- if we need it, we go get it, and if we just "want" it, odds are that it is a pretty specific (or obscure) item. Shopping for others is another layer of stress altogether, but we bottled up our inner grinch long enough to get some nice presents for the Wife, if only so she sticks around for another year.

The one good thing about the holiday season is the gatherings, and if some folks need it as an excuse to loosen up a little, neck back some 'nog, and give the old lady a christmas goose, then we're okay with that.

As it turns out, we don't need too many excuses to celebrate life, family, and friends.

If you just have to free your inner elf, send all your offerings and tidings of joy to 58°19'59"N 134°29'49"W ...Ho ho ho, dammit.

Take II

2009-12-10T12:37:00.000-08:00

More from the C:/user/photos/fall file.

December is the annual and traditional "mental vacation" month here at the Neil Creek Estate. Not much goes on in the darkest month, and not much is asked of us, so we generally just shuffle around the mansion in our underwear, clutching a cup of coffee and absently rubbing our stubble-covered phiz...by the way, that last word? It doesn't mean what you think it means.

We're sure there are folks that view us as a lazy, shiftless, no-good-for-nothin' because we get up at the crack of 9:30, lounge around all day on various couches, then drink beer all evening as if we have accomplished something worthwhile.

Our reply to those folks is, "Well, someone has to do it."

So far, the vacation has been going swimmingly. We come out of it every now an then to read emails, make ramen, and bathe, but other than that, we're pretty content with the way things have been progressing.

2010 is shaping up to be a busy one. With dates in DEN, SFO, SEA, PDX, OAK, LGB, and KOA, the Neil Creek RoadShow has a full dance card for the rest of the winter. Appropriate plans will be made withe the appropriate folks for rendez-vous during the peregrinations, but right now we're too busy relaxing to think about all of that.

Only 25 more days of staycation...coffee, anyone?

Scenes from Fall, take I

2009-12-03T11:56:00.000-08:00

With the onset of winter, a fella can't help but reminisce a little about the past year. The freshets and fish of fall have been replaced by the snow and grumbling of "the longest season", the endless pub crawl, the days of 361 channels and nothing to watch. When you can't possibly tie another fly, or fiddle with gear any more, and the next trip is months away, sometimes solace can be found in the land of C:/user/photos.

Some randomness from Fall, salve for the wound, balm for the soul.

T minus 762:37:19 'til RoadTrip '10 v1.0, kids.

Can't wait.

Settling in, kinda

2009-11-22T22:59:00.000-08:00

Back from the outside.

Things are pretty much as we left them, minus the greenhouse which ended up in the neighbor's driveway during a big blow...and the cover for the Neil Creek Yacht, which crapped out during the same storm.

And the heater, an old Monitor 422 that finally gave up the ghost.

Did we mention the cover for the upper deck at the Estate yet? No? Well, it is in need of finishing too.

Damn.

Oh well, these things happen. We're about 4.6 inches away from getting the new heater in, and as soon as we figure out how to get 2 right-angle bends (with flares) in a 9" chunk of 3/8" copper tubing AND get it wedged into a 5"x2"x3" space, things will be better...not to mention warmer.

The trip to the Outside went well, all things considered. The traffic on I-35 - actually, damn near ALL of the Austin / Dallas corridor - still sucks, and it still rains all winter in Seattle, but at least the company was OK. The nice older couple that we used to live with is doing well, and the other relatives seem to be holding their own.

Sunshine is an underrated thing, and after eating and drinking in a lot of it this trip, we can see what all the fuss is about.

The Wife and the Chick, bonding over Tex-Mex.

We pretty much ditched the camera for the rest of the trip, which is a shame because otherwise we could have let you in on a wide panoply of scenes, like Wally in a fit of beer-fueled brownline bliss, Rathbun and spouse grooving on home-surgery videos, and B² totin' his beloved J-smolt around Clark and Anil's place. As it stands, we're sorta sure you might not have wanted to see at least 2 of these 3 things.

For now, we're settling in to minor repairs at the Palace and playing with the new addition to the family, which we will get to in due time. Whether we like it or not, winter is here, and we're not quite ready for it yet.

File Under: Can't Wait

2009-11-06T13:21:00.000-08:00

The vacation is going swimmingly, thanks.

Yes, the weather is hot, the beer is still cold, and the Mex and 'cue are still pretty bitchin'.

We did, however, receive an email from Señor Rathbun over at the Chum, the contents of which we consider too pressing to wait until we are safely ensconced back in front of our own Babbage engine.

Since WA has been on the greatest hits list these last few years, not to mention the fact that we go back on a bi-yearly basis to visit that nice older couple we used to live with, this one is a little close to the vitals for us. If you fish for steelhead in WA, please take the time to answer these three multiple-choice questions...wild WA steelhead need a show of love here, even from you "brownline" weirdos that only dabble in the sickness.

Resuming radio silence...see you in 14 days, kids.

On The Road, Again.

2009-11-02T15:01:00.000-08:00

RoadTrip '09 v4 has snuck up and ambushed us. A mere 8 days after returning from RT'09 v3, we are once again packing a bag and preparing to be harassed by surly airline flunkies on our way Outside. The chance of fishing on this trip is about 8-13%, but we will be able to visit with a few choice folks from the fish-crazy camp on our peregrinations - we will once again be eatin' Mex with FlyFishChick on her home turf, downing beers with Wally at his favorite seedy dive, and trying to keep Ratbone from stealing cheesy posters glued above urinals in trashy neo-retro hipster hangouts.

While we dislike complaining about the weather, we couldn't have picked a better time to go outside. Quick comparisons for the betting folks...

Here:

TUESDAY...RAIN AND SNOW LIKELY IN THE MORNING...
THEN RAIN LIKELY IN THE AFTERNOON.
SNOW ACCUMULATION UP TO 1 INCH. HIGHS AROUND 39.
LIGHT WINDS. CHANCE OF PRECIPITATION 70 PERCENT.

There:

Tuesday: Sunny, with a high near 76. Calm wind becoming
northeast between 5 and 10 mph.

Smart money has us in shorts and tevas by Wednesday afternoon, a cold Carta Blanca in one hand and a fistful of good 'cue in the other.

See you in 16 days, kids.

Slight Return

2009-10-27T17:29:00.000-07:00

RoadTrip '09 v3 has come to a close, and it's about damn time - we only have 6 days left to prep for RoadTrip '09 v4.

At any rate, here are some quick numbers on v3 for the factoid crowd...don't laugh, you know who you are.

1830 air miles.
1722 road miles.
13 days.
3 states.
4 flows.
9337 calories consumed, resulting in
14 lbs lost.
41 ft. of running line lost.
226 ft. of tippet material used.
82 flies lost,
58 of those on fish.
142 mule deer encountered on road,
3 nearly "rentalized".
13277433 mice,
4 of which WERE rentalized.
2 pairs of blown-out waders.
61 fish raised to dry flies, of which
9 were landed.
89 bighorn fishing partners.
92465 cockleburrs stuck to our fleece.
3 days that it blew 30+mph.
1 broken rod.
4 "near-wet" experiences.
1 swimming trip.
145 hours of zen-like calm, coupled with
116 hours of blissful idiotic grinning.

The numbers we can only estimate?

2, maybe 3 cubic yards of fish landed.
Many, many grabs...on top, on tips, on drylines...
Many, many dance partners.
Tons of smiling.
Miles of casts.
Acres and acres of water covered.

Images from the field-

One of the big rivers.

Looking down the end of the canyon.

One river had piles of these guys.

Fuzzy dance partners.

Last light in the canyon.

Flies of Distinction-

This started life as a hackled leech, but the fish wouldn't leave it well enough alone...funny thing, though - the more chewed-up it got, the better it worked.

The Dark Prince, a sz12 morsel to be flung out and trusted.

The Swingin' Prince. You will now be shot, for you have seen too much.

Semi-traditional, and chewed on.

Yes, that is a foam skater, and yes, those ARE teeth-marks.

As for pics of the anadromously inclined dance partners, well...we didn't take but 3 or 4, and only of one buff lady we had a thing with for a few minutes. She was nice enough to stick around for a bit and discreet enough to stay out of the way, so we reeled up and watched her for awhile, just to make sure she was gonna get home alright.

In the end, she went her way and we went ours, and we like to think that we were both somehow better for the experience.

Many dance partners, many casts, many steps, many rocks, many rivers, many runs - as with all trips, the moment you leave the flow, it starts to run together in your mind. Features blur and spaces condense until there is nothing left but the dancers, 2 partners in recombinant iterations to represent the time passed. Many forms of quantification pale and become invalid in this light but there is one that remains-

347 days, 17 hours, and 34 minutes until we get to do it again.

Outta Here.

2009-10-10T09:49:00.000-07:00

We're off.

What started as a weekend trip with the Old Man has metastasized into a semi-annual 2 week hajj to the old stomping grounds of the PNW, and we're about to get devout. 3 hours 'til the plane, and then we're going incommunicado for 15 days.

No phone, no email, no nothin'.

We wouldn't want it any other way.

Don't forget to feed the fish, turn out the lights after you leave, and make sure the door is locked...we'll see you in a few weeks.

Ramen: A Love Story.

2009-10-07T16:01:00.000-07:00

It is no secret that we loves us some Ramen.

Lately we have been streamlining the Breakfast of Champions a skosh, trying for the zen perfection in simplicity. Gone are the accessory chiles, away went the scallions, bye-bye ginger...now that we have homemade kimchi, we don't need to mess around with that stuff in the AM. Just the basic food groups combined, thank you very much.

If there is something that is better without bacon, we don't want to eat it.

Home-made 99 44/100ths % pure love.

We love microwaves...the 31 second egg.

Add a little chopped basil, cilantro, and some fish sauce...

...The Eternal Breakfast.

Prep continues for RoadTrip '09 v3 - about 7 dozen more flies to go.

Can't wait, Fisha.

Code Twelve, One Rainbow Four - Do You Copy?

2009-09-27T21:30:00.000-07:00

Mostly done editing. Not quite all the way finished with some of they arty shots, but what the hell. You're gonna get what we have because we're pretty sure that after last week, the anadromous fish population of this flow has an APB out on us and we don't wanna stay in one place too long.

Paddy was nice enough to loan us a cool fisheye lens for the duration, and although we haven't officially asked him yet, we're angling to take it on RoadTrip '09 v3 as well - which would be cool, seeing as how we don't think we could sell enough blood and assorted bodily fluids in the next week to afford one of these bad larrys for ourselves.

Narwhal and Drifter were excellent company as usual, and with the exception of the first night's random photos of dirt and leaves ("Push harder, dude...Yes, THAT button."), he proved an able lensman and capably brave in the face of a charging turkey sandwich, no mayo.

Once on the river, we were all business...ok, not really. But we went down that thing like we had a mask and a gun. No nook, no cranny, no side-channel was safe with us around. Armed with a 4-year-old can of bear spray and a net, we got into places that the bears didn't even wanna be.

At any rate, here's the goods from RoadTrip '09 v2.2. To get in the appropriate mood, a Fisha might wanna open a beer and crank up a little Parliament/Funkadelic to fully capture the moment...then again, maybe that's just us.

Every now and then, the plane flies over things that don't have clouds over them.

The fine folks in the 1st class section were nice enough to provide us with many of these tasty scenery-enhancing beverages.

Ready to rumble.

This guy jumped into a tree. Really.

Narwhal on the sticks.

Three from the Giving Tree.

Cheering section.

The MoneyBucket was good to us - when we could keep 'em from going around the rootwad. 2 casts, 2 dance partners.

Sunrise, day 4.

The always-amusing game of "Feed the Starving Dog".

23° and fishy.

The fish we came for.

Back-channel dirty love.

More back-channel dirty love.

The Last Good Cast.

The last night.

RoadTrip '09 v2.2 is now closed. Frantic preparations have begun for v3 in the form of matériel acquisition and massive amounts of fly-tying, but every now and then we sit still, close our eyes, and dream of last week's dance partners.

We wouldn't want it any other way.

In the Bag

2009-09-26T18:50:00.000-07:00

RoadTrip '09 v2.2 is officially in the bag.

We got back to town a few days ago, just in time for that minor annoyance called work. Even an inconvenience like that was not enough to dim the light emanating from within as we glowed with the satisfaction of being in the right place at the right time.

Let's just say that if you were fishin' the same thing we were fishin', you prolly did pretty damn good, too.

We're still editing - over 350 shots from 3 different cameras - but soon we'll manage to get it all in one place and put it to bed. In the meantime, we'll leave you with this.

No time to waste - only 13 days 'til RoadTrip '09 v3

Pins and Needles

2009-09-18T13:18:00.000-07:00

RoadTrip '09 v2.1 is scratched.

Work is an annoyance, but it pays for all the cool stuff we get to do in the 8 months we don't work. Sometimes, work and fun have conflicting schedules - anyone wanna guess which one wins out?

The first leg of v2.1 was to commence last Tuesday. After getting the news of a kink in the endgame work pattern, tickets were exchanged and funds re-funded towards RoadTrip '09 v3, the October Harvest Trip. We cried a little, but tried not to sniffle in public, and figured that if we couldn't get to fish the big river with Narwhal and Drifter this year, it wasn't meant to be.

Things started looking up last night.

With just 36 hours notice, we have a reprieve of 5 days.

RoadTrip '09 v2.2 is on, kids. We have been throwin' things in the washer and sorting through gear and painting beads like a house on fire. Less than 20 hour 'til the plane leaves, and we still have a pile of beads to cure, a mess of leaders to tie, and a few dozen flesh flies to whip up.

Just about there...Tomorrow at this time, one of these will be in the mouth of a finny friend at mile 81, river left.

Game on, kids.

See you in a week.

Shoulda been here last week, 1

2009-08-26T11:14:00.000-07:00

In case your cubicle isn't near a window or your link to the NWS -AK isn't working, here's some breaking news: Summer is over.

The latest high water episode is probably the stake in the heart for the last of the summer chums, sweeping out the debris for the arrival of the favorite son, the coho. We'll get excited about them soon enough, but there is still a little bit of the dolly fishin' to do. The time of the large is upon us, time to be meticulous about detail - orange and round can only get you so far. The big boys like their meals to come correct, and will give you nothin' but fin if you are fishing last week's shade in this week's water.

Matériel acquisition has commenced for RoadTrip '09 v2.1, D and the Narwhal ( or is it the Pinwhal?) are in the picture, as well as 6 days with Drifter the wonderdog. Word around the campfire is that the 2-hander will be the star in the Swinger's Ball all weekend, but we'll wait until plans firm up to get giddy.

Until then we'll be hunched over the vise, giggling maniacally and daydreaming about the ones that won't get away.

Shots from last week.

Brothers...or sisters. We didn't check.

One that didn't hear the Internet KnowItAlls advice that cutts don't eat beads.

...Aaaand another one that didn't hear the KnowItAlls proclamation that beads don't work when there are a lot of salmon eggs in the river.

Let the Coho games begin.

Act III, Intermission.

2009-08-14T18:23:00.000-07:00

Summer chums are about done...rather, the little hatchery rats that spawn in July and can't seem to grow bigger than 7lbs are done. The real chums, the fall fatties that spawn in November, are just beginning to show up to the parade ground.

Carcasses are piling up in flows all over SE, and the humpies that were bullied out of prime spawning gravel are now back at it, albeit slightly higher up the bar and in a little faster water. Meanwhile, the dollies have grown fat and happy on a diet of greasy goodness in the form of chum eggs, and most have put on 20-25% of their initial spring weight...chubby little bastiges.

The fall prince is slated to make an appearance next, and if you listed closely, you can hear the Daughter of Fog begin to call them.

Soon.

Return of the Ow.

2009-07-27T19:45:00.000-07:00

'Cause we're kinda dumb like that.

Ow, revisited.

2009-07-19T18:40:00.000-07:00

Spent a little time this afternoon on the Gong Show Flats, chasing the small and generally enjoying the spectacle of public fishing. Fishin' was good, but it turns out catchin' was better - We got a whopper.

We were bending over to release a fish when the hook came free under tension...Let's just say that we're happy we were wearing glasses, or we woulda been diggin' a bead out of our left eye.

Not exactly the worst hook job we have endured recently, but it still stung a tad. Owner Mosquitos are sharp little buggers, but next time we'll figure out a better way to check the sharpness of our hooks.

Meanwhile, back at the Ranch...

2009-07-12T19:09:00.000-07:00

Narwhal is back in town for a week or two, so after a late-AM wakeup call - D-gro and RiFlo got all married up yesterday, you understand, on account of D finally getting a real job, and the riff-raff they invited are big beer drinkers, and there was beer to drink...But we digress.

Ahem.

After a late-AM wakeup call, we moseyed on up to the ranch with the Narwhal to see if there was any livestock to play with. Sunny day, beautiful weather for a little trip... After a quick ride we were at the low-tide end of things, where we proceeded to get down and funky with the locals.

5 hours and a wicked sunburn later, we called off the hounds and retreated. Several crateloads of fish were hassled, many rigs and hooks were snapped off in the chum-flavored water, and much fun was had by all.

Narlie with a friend.

The back pasture...nice char, man.

Gettin' to the point in the year where days off are a commodity - If we can have a few more like this'n, we'd be set.

20 reasons we like summer.

2009-07-02T20:18:00.000-07:00

Things that make us go Hmmm, Installment #12

2009-06-22T22:52:00.000-07:00

..."I cannot say whether the EPA’s compromise represents the best overall environmental result; but I do believe it amounts to the kind of detailed decision that the statutes delegate authority to the EPA, not the courts, to make."

Justice Breyer, in his concurring statement.

Excerpt taken from:
SUPREME COURT OF THE UNITED STATES
COEUR ALASKA, INC. v. SOUTHEAST ALASKA
CONSERVATION COUNCIL ET AL.
CERTIORARI TO THE UNITED STATES COURT OF APPEALS FOR THE NINTH CIRCUIT
No. 07–984. Argued January 12, 2009—Decided June 22, 2009

Never mind the fact that the CWA defines crushed rock as a pollutant. Disregard the fact that the USACE is supposed to be the permitting body for that organization. Ignore the fact that Coeur got conflicting permitting from the EPA based on syntax.

Words merely desensitize the issue. At stake is the continued health of a fairly pristine ecosystem, a wilderness area that plays host to a staggeringly large number of organisms. In a time when past digressions and egregious acts seem to be coming back to haunt us with ever-increasing frequency, how can anyone think that this might be a good idea?

If it were a responsible mining solution, we might be for the mine. This is the misuse of language acted out upon the environment, and not just any environment. This is a place in our backyard, and one of the sandboxes that we play in fairly frequently.

GoogleEarth view of the lake in question. Ignore the fact that the lake is merely a wide meadow, and that the water goes on to form the East Fork of Slate creek - and that many different types of salmonids happen to call that water home. They would understand, really.

Not only the lake and creek in question, but the health of the estuary is at stake as well. Estuaries are breeding grounds, nurseries for a wide range of animals. This particular bay hosts a massive hooligan run, one that has sustained indigenous folks for a few years, and the wildlife for a few years before that. Why tamper with the gold we already have?

ADF&G FDD map - each of the blue lines represents an anadromous stream, and each red square represents a dataset.

If Berners bay produces enough for the locals to eat and enjoy, as well as supporting the human folks that use it sustainably for both commercial and recreational interests...why mess with a good thing?

That'll do, Pig.

2009-06-17T09:03:00.000-07:00

The call came around mid-afternoon.

"Gonger stuck a big one", the Dirty Hippie said, "Gotta be at least 40".

Sure.

The another call. "Your buddy bagged a thumper on the Outside Drag, we were right next to him. You gotta see this fish."

Interesting. We were starting to wonder if the Hippie had the proportions right, if the Gonger really did bag a big'un.

Then the knock at the door that evening. Gonger, covered in fish slime, holding a beer - "You gotta come see this thing, man."

And yes, it was big.

42¼" x 28½ ", which puts it at 44 lbs by conservative estimate and 48+ by some of the regression plots - Gonger couldn't find a scale, so we winged it with the old (but good) Weight X Girth² / 770 formula.

That'll do, Pig.

Silence Fini

2009-05-28T10:13:00.000-07:00

Contrary to the rumors running rampant in the worldwide flyfishing community, we are still alive and kicking. The annual Spring Freakout went a little long this year, that's all. All told, over a thousand mile in planes, boats and autos, then another few hundred on foot. Not that we counted, nor that it matters, but as a way of tallying the days and the places, distance is a universal language that can be understood - a mental marker between rivers, between valleys, and between fish.

After awhile, the flows run together in your mind, and the sheer immensity of the landscape dislocates your brain...but the fish remain, etched, burned into your synapses, swimming your neural pathways every time you close your eyes.

The one that surfed a good six feet of standing wave to hit your fly, after you cast into the rapids as a joke...

The one that kicked your ass and nearly cost you a flyline in the Big Jam...

The little dude that came out from under the cut-bank to mash your fly at the end of the swing and bounced off of the bank on his first jump...

That brand-spankin'-new hen that ran you into the high tide, then back into the river.

The ones that gave us nothin' but fin.

The ones that moved on our offerings but didn't take, then left us, a fairly evolved higher primate, rolling around on the bank hurling sticks and tearing grass in frustration as we tried and failed to outthink them.

When it comes down to it, the fish are what it is all about. Not necessarily the physical connection, but the mere presence in our world...or perhaps us in theirs. Something about them devolves us, turns us into beings incapable of language, gesturing and grunting in wonder at the silvery creatures moving in the water.

But now spring is over, and we are forced to rejoin polite society. Conversational skill must be unearthed and dusted off, basic grooming habits must be relearned, and the poise and restraint of the genteel guide must be assumed anew - but every time we close our eyes, they swim by again.

We're back...but that doesn't mean we're here.

Overdrive

2009-05-11T18:02:00.000-07:00

Time for a breather.

Sorry we haven't been around, but it is officially spring, you understand. The annual "Spring Freakout" has formally gotten underway, and the days are fast becoming a blur of boats, planes rivers and creeks, with snippets of food, sleep, and the barest hint of civilized discourse thrown into the mix.

Seeing as how our command of clever syntax has temporarily abandoned us this spring for a more rudimentary system of grunting and pointing as a form of communication, we'll leave it up to the pics to do our talking.

Oongawa.

Another plane, another boat, another day tomorrow...

Game on.

Shakedown

2009-04-27T11:48:00.000-07:00

Diggler, Killer K, Us, and Cap'n K got a collective wild hair yesterday and we all decided to do something about it.

Being rational human beings, we were capable of seeing the situation for what it was - no rain, huge amounts of snow, super-low flows, night temps still dipping below 28° - not exactly nature's thumbs-up for a productive trip.

However, we all contracted a bad case of gedouddatownitis on the same day. Phone calls were made, targets were discussed in hushed tones, modes of conveyance were selected, and a game plan was put together.

The First Trip is best conducted as a prelude, a warm-up, before any real excursions are undertaken...a dry-firing, if you will. This way, items that were left in haste or not remembered the night before are laughed off, and the consequence of absence is not as acutely felt. Some things, however, are best remembered whatever the tone of the trip.

When you forget your wading boots, it is always best to steal a friend's Xtratufs and make new ones...

We didn't really expect to see much, other than what we already knew but blocked from out eternal optimist's minds- the snow was high, the water was low, clear, and cold, and for the most part, there was a distinct absence of piscine life to be found. We did spot a few chilly fish doing their best impersonations of ostriches with their heads buried in rootwads instead of sand, a sure sign that the home team wasn't ready to play quite yet.

The birds were out in full force, with a cloud of whitefronted geese honking like 3pm on the LA freeway for most of our trip. They were interrupted only once, by a stately procession of trumpeter swans that swung in for a look-see and then continued on up the coast. We managed one crappy picture on their easternmost swing, but even fuzzy, it is still pretty cool.

After much poking and probing, a little gazing, and some minor contemplation, we accepted the fact that it wasn't going to happen today. No worries, though - good friends, a few beers, low expectations, a walk in the cold spring sun...

Shakedown for the new season.

Game on, kids.

Lost Weekend '09

2009-04-23T12:27:00.000-07:00

Just about fully recovered from FolkFest.

Many tunes were picked, many beers were drunk, many hours were spent in, beside, with, and around music as made by both amateur and professional musicians. We got the chance to catch up with a few folks we haven't seen for years, and got to pick well into the daylight with like-minded citizens of the string.

We're not gonna type much more, partly because the folkfest experience is an event that must be experienced live, in real-time, to be fully understood. The whole undertaking would be somehow cheapened in a simple, linear translation, and so many portions of the scene need to be viewed in situ to make much sense at all...

...But mostly, we're not gonna type much more 'cause our fingers still hurt like hell from the saturday night sauna jam - once again, you had to be there.

Scenes from a lost weekend.

And for your listening enjoyment...