RoadTrip '11 v3 Abstract, Analysis

*Sigh*

It seems like so long ago, yet it has only been 16 days since we got back from RoadTrip '11 v3. Granted, there was another epic RoadTrip in between then and now, but that is another plot for later in the movie.

11 days of Sun, sand, fish, sun, tacos, snorkeling, sun, beer, tequila, sun, chillin' on the patio...did we mention sun? The sun was hot at like, 6:42am. By midday, it was hotter than 2 rats screwing in a wool sock. Our pasty-white AK carcasses never stood a chance, sunscreen or no. We spent a lot of time in our poly sunshields, diving in the water when things got too hot, then relying on the miracle of evaporation to cool us down.

Tacos have always been a love of ours, but something about set and setting (remember that from your trippin' days, hippie?) make even the most average tacos seem sublime. Throw in a cold beer with a little limon, and the universe seems a much better place. We managed to land in 2 or 3 exquisite taquerias that would have made the DEC choke...dirt floors, dogs wandering around, chickens fighting in the outhouse...but for the amazing food we were served in these places, there's a whole lot more we could have endured.

As some of y'all know, we loves us some snorkeling, and this trip didn't disappoint. A mere hop, skip, and shimmy over the hot sand from the patio put us right smack in the middle of the best reef for a few miles, and we wasted no time gettin' our snorkel on. Even after the local reef hunters sacked it, there were still more fish, eels, and rays than you could shake a stick at.

As an aside, this trip was more than the everyday ordinary Neil Creek Traveling RoadShow and Beer Fountain...Us n' The Wife happened to celebrate our 10th anniversary mid-trip, a day made memorable by some bitchin' chorizo tacos and a long snorkeling session, capped off by a siesta after some arroz con frijoles with fresh maize tortillas. For those of y'all that didn't send anniversary gifts (symbolizing Ideas and Symbols, traditionally expressed by Diamond Jewelry...c'mon, keep up, you heathen), feel free to post them to the Neil Creek Center for Anadromous Salmon Research, c/o G_Smolt. Remember, it's never too late.

At any rate, enough blathering. The following is a non-chronological series of photographs, some of which will need some explanation - in these cases, we will provide some background using spanglish, ameslan, or birdcalls and various jungle noises. For your viewing pleasure, we also recommend a Mariachi album, or a good Don Julio side, if you are into that sort of thing. And a cold beer.

Going in style. "If you are gonna go, might as well go in the Big Seats" is our new motto.


First day in-country, and we're on the program. Breakfast of champions.


The digs...640 sq ft of living space, 800 sq ft of patio over the water...our kind of priorities.


Flora and fauna from the patio














Combs, about 200 yds off the beach.


DIY Ceviche, in 3 easy steps.




Speaking of Ceviche, the jacks and assorted reef fish tore our little 5wt reel a new one. After one spectacularly bad grinding noise followed by an interesting spell emanating from its innards, we decided to investigate. Pliers? check. Butterknife? check. Something big to use as a hammer, if necessary? got it. Doctor, the patient is ready.


So much for the sealed cork drag. However, we have a 2nd degree black belt in Ghetto Engineering, and saw the proper fix a mile off. We repurposed a water bottle to a higher calling...problem solved.


Night ops


"103 pesos? sweet!"


Did we mention the tacos de desayuno con batata, chorizo, huevos y pico de gallo?


Sunrise



More bloggers than you can shake a stick at


The Mexican got hisself a big ol' tuna one day, and we managed to weasel an invite over to his place for some serious eatin'...scenes from an all-out fiesta.

Before the carnage


Love from the Blue Water


Atun Aguachile - concombre, cebolla, serrano, y jugo de limon. Smashing.


Searing the Sea-Beef


Bliss


Images from a reef








SnorkelNerds


"¡Oiga! ¿Como esta?"
"Bien, bien.¿Que desea ordenar?"
"Quisiera un kilo de bisteca para la brasa, por favor."
"No problemo."
"¿Donde esta el jugo de naranja?"
"Seis pasillo, a la derecha."
"Gracias."
"De nada."
"Nos vemos"
So even though we still can't conjugate our way out of a paper bag, we still remember some middle-school spanish and had sufficient pointing and grunting skills to convey at least a modicum of information...The result? Steak tacos. Winning!


Hazards to barefoot beachwalking - these things were everywhere.


We had a standoff with this guy out front one day, a mexi...nevermind.


The only good cucaracha


So big, he needed shoes


The Mexican took us for a boatride one day, and that's pretty much when our paradigm shift occurred. Salt fish are now part of our lexicon, and we see combs in our dreams. We will be back for more of this, sooner or later.

We'd be nervous too if we knew what was in store.


Pelecainos, workin' for their sardina






The Wife, makin' sure that Capitan Marcos got his ceviche fixin's


El Tiburon










Not sure when we will get back, but we know that we made the most of the time we had there. Many thanks to Martz the Mexican, Crumptastic, K8, and all the other folks that we bumped into on our anniversary trip.

We'll leave you with our 2 favorite images from the trip.




Hasta luego, amigos.

One down, one to go

RoadTrip '11 v3 is in the can. There is still a bit of PTDD (post-trip depression disorder...c'mon, keep up) lingering, and while we haven't openly wept while browsing through the trip photos, we'll admit that we get a bit misty-eyed and have a sudden lust for tacos and ceviche. We haven't done much editing, but after chopping up a few pics, we figured there was a little too much story to tell and not much time between now and RoadTrip '11 v4...so for now, here's a little taste of the tropics.













That was then, this is now. RoadTrip '11 v4 commences in 23 hours, 52 minutes, and 18 seconds. We're makin' a list, but we're pretty sure that we got the basics covered - Babywipes, Scotch, 7133 & 7132, huge-ass flies, Darth Vader mask, bail money, and a baggie for our pride when we get crushed by Walter...'cause you know it's gonna happen. 5 Days in the Holy Water, a week in the grease, 120 hours with the the peddler of Hope, the crusher of Dreams...we've been there before, and like a fool to his folly and a dog to his vomit, we're goin' back to get sunburned, chapped, chafed, schooled, and humbled. The last time, we pulled off a few wins, took a few from the home team - we're hopin' for a repeat performance this time but we know how fickle lady luck can be, so we ain't holdin' our breath.



Can't wait, fisha.

El sudar abajo del hombre

Estamos casi listos para irse. Pronto seremos el conseguir hecho listos y comenzaremos nuestro viaje. ¿Nuestra destinación? Sur de la frontera, donde el pez gallo grande nadadas en el mar azul calient...Waaaait a minute. Y'all understand spanish, ¿correcto? ¿Por qué no?

The local game is still going, but we tuned that out a few days ago to concentrate on the big picture...not that packing 4 pairs of board shorts and 3 island-hopper shirts took that long, mind you, but we had to get in the proper frame of mind...so we took our own damn sweet time. The time for RoadTrip v3 is upon us - We don't know about you, but hot-ass sunshine, running around on the hot sand, trying not to succumb to heatstroke or dehydration, drinking our body weight in margaritas daily and snorkeling / fishing / lazing about all day for 11 days sounds like a pretty OK proposition.



A few 10wts, spare lines, big-ass flies, a beachfront condo, a 4-wheeler, a pidgin dictionary, Iodine tablets, and enough bail money to keep us free in most 3rd world fishing destinations...We're goin' to the Big Show.

Less than 22 hours 'til go time.

Comin' up on Game Time

Things are looking up around the Neil Creek Estate.

Work for the quarter is rapidly coming to a close, and not a minute too soon - if we keep tyin' at the rate we been goin', either our fingers are gonna fly off or we'll be blind inside a month. Also, in case y'all don't live in the current iteration of paradise-on-earth known as SouthEast Alaska, spring has finally started springing 'round these parts, and we have been experiencing perturbations in the space-time continuum around some of the local flows. The pull is weak at the moment, but we are pretty sure that things will start happening with exponential speed here in about 128 hours, give or take a few minutes.

Recent spy-satellite imaging is showing a nice snowpack beginning to tatter at the edges, and the latest data from the gaugeheads show the telltale signs of spring...all signs point to fish before the week is out.



In related news, RoadTrip '11 V3 and V4 are set to commence in 24 and 42 days, respectively. V3 has us en Baja con la esposa, empapando para arriba el sol con una bebida a disposición y nuestros dedos del pie en la arena, and V4 is a continuation of Opening Day tradition, where we go to the Kapuqarwit on the Alarneret Kuigat and catch ungllik'ar with our narulkar.

Some of you probably don't speak Spanish or Yu'pik, so just try to follow the best you can, and we'll go slow when we get to the difficult parts.

The pull is getting stronger - the season of fish will soon be upon us.

'Bout time.

We would like to take this opportunity to tell y'all about a new addition to our little family here at the Neil Creek Estate.

After 4 tense months, we finally got the call - the new kid was coming home. At 4½ lbs, 40 inches (he don't take up much room), he's yellin' and laughin' like he owns the place already. He's a lot lighter blonde than his older brother, and he definitely has a different voice, but other than a few birthmarks and such they could be twins. We try to spend an equal amount of time with both of them, just to make sure that they don't get jealous of each other, but the new kid is a joy to play with, and we're pretty tickled to finally have him here.

A shot of the boys at rest- that's Woody on the right, and 'Hog on the left.


What, you thought we were talking about REAL kids?

No way. Too much snot and poo.

ANYWAYS, here's a few beauty shots of 'Hog. He is a Collings D1A, custom built for us - a first, as usually we are too damn cheap to buy anything new - with a few appointments that we felt we just couldn't live without.


We're preferential to the 1¾" neck, with the semi-v "almost vintage" feel, 'cause it is dang smooth and easy to hold on to. We opted for the ebony fretboard without all those foo-foo dots and snowflakes - leave the mother-of-toilet-seat inlays to the Nashville weenies. This is a pickin' guitar, not an ornament.


'Hog sports an Adirondack spruce top with some pretty cool bearclaw - we always liked bearclaw for the individuality it lends to an otherwise identical entity. Some folks say that the more clawed a piece of wood, the harder it is and the better instrument tops it makes. Us, we don't know. It sure does sound pretty, though.


The dalmatian pickguard goes nice with the light color of the top, don't it? We sure do like us some 'shell, and we though that this best represented that aesthetic without spendin' a mint and getting our new boy confiscated by some goofball with a CITES writ.


We're tickled to have the boys out on stands right next to the heater. They stay warm at night, and we get a chance to pick 'em up and take 'em for a whirl if the notion strikes us - lately, we seem to have that notion quite a bit.

We'll get our pickin' time in, but the season of fish is looming on the horizon. We did some stream-sniffin' and rock-lickin' the other day, and we're puttin first fin about 26-27 days out.

'Til then, we'll be home with the boys.

Repent, Recant, Recalibrate

Remember our stance on loud reels? The kind that sound like cats screwing in a tin can?



...Yeah, we do too.

*Sigh*

We have been lookin' to round out the twig selection, and finally settled on the Winston BII-x 7133 - super sweet action, light in the hand, all a fella needs for long-bellies to super shorties. We figured we had the reel all picked out for this one, too - sealed drag, no click, bombproof, idiot-proof...all the things that we dig in a reel.

But after we got to fondle the Silveynator's super-sweet BII-x 7133/Bougle setup, we decided that if we were gonna pull the trigger on a new twig, might as well go whole hog and get us one of those loud reels to make the package complete. We got all kinds of excuses for this irrational behavior...it balances the 7133 perfectly, the ivory handle feels good, it sits tight underneath the rod, blah blah blah...but it came down to pure aesthetics on this one.

This one was just too sexy to pass up.

For the moment, it is our new baby. We gotta admit, when the line gets rippin' off this thing, it is kinda like someone else's baby - as in, a loud caterwauling that you wish would stop. Still, we are happy with our new acquisition. Yes, it IS a bit on the traditional side, and given our stance on tradition this might seem a little hypocritical. But you can't move forward until you know the past, so we're filing this one under "research purposes".

85 days 'til we get to put it to the test.

Checkin' back in

Whew.

34 days.
4127 miles.
4 safe houses.
3 rental cars.
3 shows.
52,495 conversations.
195 hours in a 10x10 box.
3 casting contests.
5 rivers.
1 lost shooting head.
1 sushi party.
1 luau.
47 cubic yards of snow shoveled.

It's been a hazy 5 weeks, but we're finally back at the Neil Creek Estate with no trips on the horizon...which is a good thing, because the ocean of work that filled up our dance card while we were gone is in imminent danger of gettin' all tsunami on our ass.

Video to edit, flies to tie, forms to fill out, receipts to turn in, apologies to be sent, hazy nights to be recollected...

Nose-to-the-grindstone time. We gotta make sure the runway is clear for May, 'cause we got a Mexican date with a hot chick, a margarita, a panga, and a sexy roosterfish somewhere south of La Paz that we gotta get to.

Randomness from the last few weeks-

Doppelgangër, leanin' into his second of the day.


Cap'n Ron, with his "yes, they WILL eat that tiny thing" fish.






Sushi, anyone?


Normally, we're fairly humble and respectful around
Creek Woman...but not when she steals lines that we
spent HOURS dialin' in.


The Silveynator, gettin' some footage of Doppelgangër's first of two.


The infamous Chinese Mexican in his native habitat.



Rest, recoup...not for awhile. We got some work to do between now and the next play-date. Doesn't mean we won't be replaying the last few weeks' worth of footage over and over in the cinema of the mind about 82 times a day...



It's what keeps us going.