Baby Duty with a Splash of Fly Casting

My son is nearly four months now, and it's true what people say about kids growing up so fast.  He's changing a little bit every day, and the past four months have been a blur. When I try to recall the first few weeks with him--or even the first month---I find it hard to remember the details. I understand now why my mother-in-law has trouble remembering specifics about my husband as a baby when I ask her for comparisons. I guess it's one of those clichés that are totally true, but you just can't realize it until you're experiencing it firsthand. I try to keep this in mind when I'm struggling to get our son back to sleep at 3:00 am or trying to comfort him when he's fussy. If I find myself daydreaming about "easier" times down the road, I try to remember that these days are fleeting and will be missed down the road. I've heard the time with a young child described as the "longest shortest time," which is a totally accurate description so far. Some days and nights drag on and I start wishing for a break, but then I look at my son and realize just how fast he's growing up. I know that the frustrations we're facing at the moment will be distant memories soon enough.

 

 

I'm fortunate to be able to stay home with my son for the first six months of his life,  which I try to appreciate when I start feeling stir crazy. I know many women have to go back to work much earlier and it must be very difficult for them. I currently get to spend every waking and sleeping hour with my son, which I'm greatful for, but it's nice to get some time to myself every once in awhile.  Thanks to my husband and the fact that our son will now take a bottle when needed, I've recently been able to get out of the house for some "me time."  These short breaks help me re-energize and I look forward to returning home to my family afterwards.  Fittingly, most of these outings have revolved around fly fishing.

 

 

My first official solo trip away from home since my son's birth was to a casting open gym. Some friends recently formed the Madison Fly Casters Club as a way for area fly fishers to get together during the offseason for some winter casting practice.  They reserved a couple basketball courts at a local sports arena and arranged for a couple hours of casting, beer drinking, and socializing.  At first it felt strange getting into the car without the baby carrier and diaper bag---I had the feeling I was forgetting something--but it didn't take me long to start enjoying the drive. I turned up the music and took in the rolling hills on each side of me. Once there, it was really nice to chat with some old and new friends about fly fishing and babies. Finding out that other parents of young kids have gone through and survived all the same problems my husband and I are facing made me see the big picture. It helped me realize that the things currently stressing us out are pretty insignificant in the grand scheme of things. So overall, the open gym was a great way for everyone to fight cabin fever and get their casting arms moving again. I'm looking forward to the next one scheduled this month.

 

Photo courtesy of  https://www.facebook.com/madflycasters 

 

Just a few nights ago, my husband volunteered to babysit so I could attend the Fly Fishing Film Tour (F3T) that was in town. It was nice to sit back in the theater with a cold beer and get lost in some good fly fishing footage. It was also good to see friendly faces and visit with friends. I've met a lot of great people through fly fishing, and it's always nice to catch up with them. Though there were a few too many salt water films and not enough spring creek footage for my taste, it was a great reason for a night out in subzero temperatures.

 

 

As my son gets older and the frigid temps become more manageable, I'm sure it will be easier for me to get out of the house--with or without the baby. I'm very thankful to my husband for encouraging me to do so. He's had to work off and on over the past four months and probably feels a bit guilty that I've been "stuck" at home so much on baby duty. If it weren't for him, I wouldn't have been able to get these moments to myself that helped me gain perspective and return home happy to be back on baby duty. I used to envy my husband when he had to leave for work; he was able to socialize with other adults, get out of the house, and experience some freedom without having to battle our son during naptime. I now realize, though, that I was the lucky one who got to stay home with our baby. If the first four months have gone by this quickly, he'll be a year old before we know it. Instead of worrying about whether our son is getting enough "tummy time," we'll be worrying about gating off the stairs. I'm sure as time goes by we'll look back wistfully on these early months, and rather than lamenting the weeks stuck at home on baby duty, I know I''ll appreciate the amount of time I was able to spend with my baby boy.

 

**If you're in the Madison area and interested in joining the Madison Fly Casters Club, check out their Facebook page:   https://www.facebook.com/madflycasters

Ephemeral Moments

When you're pregnant, people tell you that your life will never be the same once your baby arrives, but it's hard to fully prepare for it.  My son was born six weeks ago and the time has passed by in a flash.  Our initial days together have blended into one short window of time, yet it seems ages ago that I gave birth.

It's still strange to call him my son.  Just as it took time to start calling my boyfriend my husband after our wedding, I'm still not used to calling this baby that I carried for forty weeks and one day my son.  It sounds so official.  It's as if the use of that noun immediately moves me into the realm of full-fledged adulthood.  It was a move I was ready to make but it just hasn't entirely sunk in yet.

My maternal feelings are growing more every day.  It wasn't love at first sight as some mothers describe it, rather my son initially felt like a stranger to me.  Even though he shares half of my genetics and was a fixture inside me for nine months, it still took time for us to get to know one another once he entered the world.  We experienced some struggles the first four weeks but seem to have figured each other out recently.  I've become better at deciphering his needs and wants and he has become more reassured by me.  It's still a bit surreal at times to realize this baby belongs to me, is part of me, and that I am currently responsible for 99% of his health and wellness.  It's both sobering and comforting to realize how much he needs me at this stage of his life and how his future self will be influenced by how well I care for him now.

During the intense crying jags or the 3:00 am feedings I sometimes think wistfully about a time down the road when my son will be able to tell us what he wants and will sleep through the night, but I'm making a concerted effort to appreciate everything about these early days. I know many parents that look back longingly on this newborn period, and everyone says that kids grow up so fast.  There must be something to that cliché.  Therefore, I'm consciously trying to savor each moment with my son because there's no reversing to clock once you realize how precious this time was.


So, although I'm looking forward to the day he can walk along a trout stream with me and turn over rocks to find caddis casings, I'm appreciating the time I have with my son right now.  I inhale the smells of his milk breath and diapers, both of which only a mother can love.   I watch his eyes flutter and face contort as he falls asleep in my arms.  I enjoy our daily routine, as mundane as it may seem, because I realize how fleeting this window of our lives will be.

39 Weeks Down....1 Week to Go

With only a week remaining until the arrival of my due date, I actually have time to think about my pregnancy and what the approaching outcome will entail.  It's all been very abstract for me from the beginning.  Back in February when we got a positive pregnancy result, there weren't many physical changes to speak of and there was no tangible evidence that a baby had actually been created.  I had no morning sickness to speak of and my regular clothes fit for a long time.  Once our greenhouse season was in full swing, I became too busy to really think about my pregnancy.  I worked long days every day without much time to rest and reflect on what was going on inside my body.  To the baby's credit, he was extremely cooperative all summer.  My pregnancy hasn't prevented me from doing anything I normally do (with the exception of an October steelhead trip), and I've remained extremely active over the past nine months.  It wasn't until a week or two ago that the increased discomfort began.  It coincided with the end of our greenhouse season, so I'm not sure if I'm more uncomfortable now because the baby is at his biggest point or if it's because I have time to notice it.  Either way, I've still had it very easy overall so I don't complain much.  Sure my shoes are pretty tight now, my ribcage is sore, and I have to get up once or twice each night to use the bathroom, but things could have been much worse for much longer. 

As I said before, I stayed so busy during the duration of my pregnancy that the baby didn't start to become real to me until recently.  With the greenhouse now closed for the season, I have more free time in a single day than I had over the course of the entire summer.  I spent our first week of the off season in nesting mode:  I washed the baby clothes, organized the house, froze tomato sauce and applesauce for the winter, got the car seat installed, stocked the kitchen with food, etc.  Now that I checked off all the important things on my baby to-do list, there's days when I start to feel a bit listless.  It's only the second week of our off season and I'm already bored. Unbelievable. I should be appreciating this time to myself because I'll soon me lamenting the loss of it.  Who knows when I'll ever have this much time to myself again.....

With this new time off comes too much time to think, which has led to some mental meltdowns recently.  The labor part doesn't worry me; I know it will be painful but I know it will end, and I also know my pain tolerance is high.  Most mothers I know have gone through some sort of labor, so if they can do it so can I.  I'm also not too nervous about caring for a newborn.  I've done a lot of reading, we've taken the classes, and our families will be around to help.  The part that's been throwing me for a loop, though, is the realization that our lives are about to profoundly change.  It's actually beginning to dawn on me that we'll be bringing home a newborn sometime within the next few weeks.  The baby is still intangible to me; I don't have a picture in my head of what he'll look like, we don't have a definite name picked out yet, and I don't feel I've really bonded with him inside the womb.  Whether we're ready or not, the arrival of the baby will be the biggest life changing event in either of our lives......and it's scary.  I know the timing couldn't be better and my husband and I are not regretting the pregnancy one bit, but it's still making me very anxious and emotional lately.  Once this baby is here, our lives will have an entirely new focus.  We'll no longer just be looking out for ourselves and each other.  This baby will become the epicenter of our lives.  I know it will be a good thing but it's just begun to sink in how much our lives are about to change. I've been very independent for a very long time but will soon be retiring that independence.  I know I'll get it back eventually, but it scares me.  I also know that I'll likely forget all these fears once the baby is here.

To my husband's credit, he already loves the baby.  He is much more emotionally open than I am and I can tell he's excited for the baby to get here. I have a hunch that as my due date approaches I, too, will turn the corner and begin to look forward to the arrival of our son.  A lot of people have said to me over the past couple months, "You must be getting so excited to meet him!"  I would go along with their excitement but it wasn't genuine.  It had previously been too abstract for me, and right now I'm more anxious than excited.  When I look at the crib and baby clothes, I feel agitation rather than love.

Part of me wishes I was still working ten hours a day so I didn't have time to process everything that's going to be happening within the next few weeks, but another part of me is glad that I'm confronting these fears.  I know it's normal to be nervous and I know I'll have no regrets once the baby is here.  It's been eye opening for me to see how genuinely excited people are for this baby--people I don't even know--so we definitely must be headed towards something very special.  Although I don't feel drawn towards babies and don't have the urge to coo and coddle infants I see on the street, I know it will be different with my own child.  And when I take the time to think about it now, I AM looking forward to developing that special bond with my son, and I AM looking forward to moving on from a couple to a cohesive unit of three.  Maybe today's the day I start turning the corner and love and anticipation about my son's arrival begin to replace anxiety and fear.

Fly Fishing for Two

With the Wisconsin inland trout season coming to a close soon and my due date less than three weeks away, I figured I needed to squeeze in a few hours of fly fishing before I lost the chance.  I decided to stay close to home, so I chose a well known stream just ten minutes from my front door.  I haven't spent much time fishing my local waters--I'm on more familiar ground with streams an hour away--so I was looking forward to exploring a new stretch of water that was so conveniently located.


The first point of concern was whether my waders would still fit.  It had been a couple months since I'd last worn them, so I had no idea whether they were going to fit over my belly or not.  As luck would have it, I had about an inch to spare.

After gearing up, I headed down the well worn path from the parking area into the trees.  Normally very nimble and sure-footed, I found myself being extra careful on the steep parts of the trail.  My extra weight out front has apparently affected my balance a bit. Once out of the trees, I entered a meadow of grass reaching above my head.  I silently thanked the previous fishermen who had laid out a maze of trampled paths for me to follow.

Once I reached the water, I followed it downstream a ways so I could fish up. There wasn't much going on in terms of hatches or risers, but on the first cast a little guy made a splashy take at my Pass Lake dropper as soon as it hit the water.  I assumed that was a sign of good things to come.  I continued fishing upstream and had a lot of quick takes on the dropper as it floated along the undercut banks.

As the sun got higher, my stamina got lower.  I could feel my energy waning fast, so after only an hour on the water, I headed back to the parking lot.  It was hard to abandon the runs I saw ahead of me, but I didn't want to test the baby's patience.  Temporarily gone are the days of being able to fish for an entire day without even stopping to eat, but I'm glad I made it out to explore some new water.



As it turned out, I managed to get out one more time before the season closed.  A couple friends were heading to the Driftless for an afternoon and invited me along.  We ended up fishing the same stretch of water we ended the 2012 season on.  It was a similar sort of day, too, with the sun shining, a cool breeze blowing, and the leaves beginning to change color.

There were lots of risers around, and although more fish were missed than caught, enough of them took my flies to make the trip a successful end to the season.

One season is now closed, but a different one is about to begin for me.  I've enjoyed my independence for a long time; I've been able to do what I wanted when I wanted for the most part.  As I prepare for this new adventure, though, I'm beginning to look forward to having responsibility for someone else.  I know I'll miss having the freedom to pack up and leave for a weekend of fishing whenever it suits me, but I predict that spending a weekend with my husband and newborn will be even more fulfilling.  And down the road, I'm looking forward to having a new fly fishing partner by my side.

A Change of Scenery

My last fly fishing outing occurred over two months ago.  I managed to spend one last day on the water before our greenhouse season (and the ensuing chaos) began.  It seems forever ago but it was a great day filled with tiny olives and rising fish.

Since late March, my daily scenery has been composed of plants, greenhouses, and sunshine.  It may not be Wisconsin trout streams but it's still pretty good.

The spring of 2013 has been busier than ever, which is great for our greenhouse business but it's left me with zero time for things other than working and sleeping over the last two months.  It's a tough work schedule---an average of eighty hours each week without days off--but it comes with the territory.  We have our down time in the fall and winter.  Now that summer is officially upon us and we're almost into July, my days should start to get a little less rigorous and I'm hoping to get some time to myself and some afternoons on the water.

It's hard to believe that I'm in the sixth month of my pregnancy.  Thinking back to January when it all started, the time has gone unbelievably fast.  The whole experience has also been unbelievably easy so far.  I think giving up caffeine during the first few weeks has been the toughest part.  I didn't experience any morning sickness, and besides needing to sleep about ten hours every day during the first couple months, this pregnancy hasn't prevented me from doing anything I normally would do--except enjoy a cold beer at the end of a long day.  I've still been putting in long, active days at the greenhouse without missing a beat, and I actually don't even think about being pregnant except when I realize another piece of clothing doesn't fit anymore or when I feel slight movements in my tummy.  So all in all, I count myself pretty lucky and this baby pretty cooperative.  Things will likely get harder over the next couple months, and I'm willing to bet that once the baby is actually here everything in our lives will be harder.  So I'm appreciating the time I have now even if it has to be devoted towards work 95% of the time.  There's no feeding times in the middle of the night and no diapers to change yet.  The little guy is along for the ride with whatever I choose to do each day without any objection or hindrance.  Hopefully I'll get on the water soon so he can hear the muffled sounds of a Wisconsin trout stream and get a pre-natal dose of the fly fishing experience.

Does Simms make Maternity Waders?

I've discovered something that is totally ubiquitous yet completely foreign to me.  Pretty much every mother on the planet has gone through this, yet I know next to nothing about it.  I'm speaking of pregnancy.

I am currently beginning my tenth week of growing an embryo, and the whole process is still very abstract to me.  This was a planned event, though my husband and I were taken a little off guard by the speed of conception.  We had spent the last thirteen years making sure that conception never occurred, so it was very strange to reverse our mindsets and actually start trying to make the sperm and egg meet.  I just assumed that it would take a long time for me to get pregnant after being on birth control pills for over a decade.  I guess a woman never knows whether her ovaries are working right until she actually gets pregnant.  For some reason I thought I'd be one of those women with weak ovaries.  Obviously I was wrong.

I have spent zero time around pregnant women, so I'll be learning as I go for the next seven months. Of my close girlfriends, none of them have started a family, and the news of my pregnancy actually makes most of them a bit uncomfortable.  They're not sure how to deal with me, and I'm not sure how to deal with my new pregnant self or them.  I guess we'll be figuring that out as we go.  I've never really had a particular affinity towards womanly things, and I have more male friends than female.  I previously had little need for womanly advice or company--I didn't feel I shared much in common with other females--but now things have changed.  Since I have few friends to discuss my pregnancy with, I've been drawn more to my mom, my mother-in-law, and random women I overhear discussing baby stuff at the grocery store.  I've never felt the need for "girl time," but lately I've been craving more matronly company.  I want more women in my life that can talk about pregnancy and help me wrap my brain around what's happening to me.

So far, the first two months of my pregnancy have gone quite smoothly.  I assumed all pregnant women suffered from nausea during the first trimester, so my total lack of morning sickness and nausea worried me.  Was mine a weak pregnancy because I wasn't getting sick?  Was the embryo not implanted correctly?  The internet is an amazing source of information about pregnancy, but it can get me into trouble at the same time.  When I searched for information regarding a lack of nausea among pregnant women, I found some sources saying that a quarter of pregnant women never experience nausea and that I should count myself lucky.  Another site said that a lack of morning sickness is very rare and can mean a higher risk of miscarriage.  The internet is a double edged sword.  For every pregnancy question I research, I can find sites supporting opposite opinions on the matter.  As it turns out, my mom never was sick with my brother and me.  So I guess I'm just one of those lucky women.

The most difficult part of my pregnancy so far, besides giving up coffee, has been the realization that I am not in control of my body any more.  I've always been an active and healthy individual with a healthy body type, but I'm already beginning to grow out of my jeans.  I know I should be mostly concerned with the health of the baby growing inside me, but it's hard to accept the fact that I can no longer control what my body will look like.  I basically use to "eat to survive."  I didn't get that excited about food; I ate what was good for me and didn't care too much about flavor.  I definitely had my weaknesses for ice cream, but overall I maintained a very bland but healthy diet.  Since being pregnant, I've been experiencing hunger pains like I've never felt before.  They occur every couple hours, and I'm now craving completely different types of foods.  I've gone from a vegetarian to a meat-eater (I had forgotten how delicious a hamburger can taste!) and from a sporadic eater to someone who needs to eat every three hours.  Women aren't supposed to gain much weight during their first trimester, but my waistline is already growing.  Is it selfish and vain to worry about weight gain during pregnancy?  I've seen plenty of women who've given birth and gotten back into shape in no time, but what if it's a struggle for me?  Is my self image tied that much to my physical appearance?  I guess I should appreciate these early months regardless of any slight weight gain because it's only the beginning.  My body is being hijacked by another being, and my belly is only going to get bigger from here on out.  In five months I may be wishing to return to these early months of pregnancy when I could still fit into most of my normal clothes.

For now, I take my prenatal vitamins on a daily basis, eat about five meals a day, and feel my pants get a little tighter each morning.  I know there's no such thing as maternity waders, so thankfully I have a pair with ample room to grow into.

An Escape to Supai, Arizona

My husband and I have been together thirteen years (yikes!) and married for seven. We've only had one real vacation together in all those years where it was just the two of us. All the other vacations we've taken have been separate of each other or together with friends. Until recently, our work schedules just never meshed well. When I had vacation time from teaching, my husband was in the throes of the peak greenhouse season. When he had downtime in the winter, I was in the midst of teaching biology to a bunch of pubescent teenagers. Once I left my teaching career to assist him with our small business fulltime, we finally were able to schedule in a real vacation....just the two of us.

I must admit I was a little nervous. We spend a lot of time together at work and at home, but we'd always had buffers when it came to extended trips together. What if we got bored with each other's company? It wasn't a serious concern, but it was something to ponder during lulls in conversation.  How would we get along together for a week without any traveling buffers around?

When it came to deciding where to go, I really wanted to take my husband to Supai, AZ, which I had visited in 2007 with a friend. It's an amazing place, as you can see from the photos below. My husband wanted to see the Grand Canyon, so I booked plane tickets to Las Vegas, which would be our jumping off point for the rest of the vacation.

We arrived in Vegas and spent the first several nights absorbing the overt stimuli of the Strip. I much prefer nature to nightlife, so it wasn't the best part of the trip for me, but the hubby got to gorge himself at a couple major buffets and check out a couple shows, and our visit to Hoover Dam was impressive. We left for the South Rim of the Grand Canyon on our third day and spent the afternoon walking the overlook trails.  I had been to the Grand Canyon before, but it was just as magnificent the second time around.  We tried to take in as many views as we could, but it really is too vast to comprehend.  It's difficult to grasp how deep and wide the canyon is unless you actually hike to the bottom.  Luckily, we had plans to head west of the Grand Canyon National Park to the Hualapai Indian Reservation to take on that challenge

After staying a night in Tusayan, we loaded up our gear and set out for the Hualapai Highway, also called Indian 18. This is a dead-end road that brings you to a stark trailhead, which leads to the village of Supai. Supai is located in the bottom of a canyon, surrounded by red rocks and blue skies. It's populated by only a few hundred year-round residents, and it's only accessible by hiking, mule train, or helicopter. All of the village's supplies are brought down via helicopter or mule, and all the waste generated there is brought out in the same way. Havasu Creek runs through the canyon and results in beautiful, turquoise waterfalls a few miles downstream from Supai. The water gets its color from the loads of mineral deposits it accumulates from the surrounding rocks. Against the red rocks of the canyon, the water takes on an unreal color. I had taken the journey to these falls before, and I don't normally choose to visit the same place twice when there's so much to see around this country, but I thought the falls were spectacular enough to visit again. There's something about flowing water that pulls me near.  Maybe it’s a result of growing up just a stone’s throw from two great rivers—the St. Croix and the Mississippi.  Regardless, it was the moving water that was calling me back to Supai.

These waterfalls aren't nearly the biggest in the world nor the most beautiful, but there's something about the color of the water against the surrounding landscape, as well as their unique setting, that makes them so brilliant. Some experiences can lose their luster when repeated; the novelty wares off.  I was really hoping my return trip to the waterfalls of Supai would be equally as gratifying as my initial visit.

We set off from the trailhead around lunchtime and completed the eight mile hike down to Supai in three hours. The weather was perfect and the scenery was expansive. Once we arrived in Supai, we checked into the lodge and relaxed a bit in our spartan room before heading to the cafe for a filling dinner of burritos.

Hualapai Hilltop

 

The next morning we loaded up water, lunches, and cameras for our six mile roundtrip hike to three different sets of waterfalls.  We came into view of Navajo Falls just a mile outside of Supai. They had changed drastically since 2007 due to extreme flooding that hit the canyon in 2008 and 2009.  The Navajo Falls I saw five years ago no longer existed, and the Navajo Falls of 2012 were completely new to me. I think the floods actually made them more beautiful, and these falls definitely spoke to the power of water.  I tried to imagine a wall of water rolling through the canyon with enough force to literally move mountains and change the landscape in such a drastic way.  Evidence of the severe flooding was apparent not only in the changed water routes but also in the large amounts of debris strewn throughout the canyon.

Navajo Falls

We continued our hike and made it to Havasu Falls a mile downstream. These falls had also changed since my last visit. The rerouted water upstream has resulted in water flowing over just a third of the rock face it had covered before the flooding events. Even though Havasu Falls in now much narrower, it is still a beautiful waterfall with inviting side channels and pools.

 

Havasu Falls

 

After a lunch break and some gin rummy at the base of Havasu Falls, we hiked one more mile to reach Mooney Falls. These are the tallest of the falls we visited, and it was a precarious climb to reach them--one that required crawling through tunnels chiseled through the rock face and climbing down steps etched into the sheer cliff.

Mooney Falls

Later that night after hiking back to Supai, we fell asleep to the muffled sounds of three dozing yet alert village dogs lying outside our lodge door.  (Impressively, these same dogs were dozing in the shade at the top of the trailhead the next morning.)

We began the eight mile hike back to Hualapai Hilltop early the next day.  We fell into a good pace and were at the 6.5 mile marker before we knew it. The last 1.5 miles were the most daunting since they’re composed almost entirely of steep switch backs cut into the canyon wall. We took it step-by-step, rested when we needed to and reached the top without too much trouble. Surprisingly, we made the eight mile hike out of the canyon in the same amount of time it took us to go down. Our speedy exit was likely a result of my competitive nature coming out. When I have a destination to reach, whether it's by walking, hiking, biking, or skiing, I fall into a racing mentality. I end up in either an imaginary race with myself, or if there are people in front of me, in a race to beat them. Regardless of the pace I set, my husband was right on my heels the entire way and took the lead for the last, most difficult mile.

The final ascent to Hualapai Hilltop.  Notice the mule train, which provides a good scale for the size of the climb.

After celebrating our successful ascent, we hopped in the rental car and headed down the Hualapai Highway towards Las Vegas for our flight home the following day.

All in all, it was a great trip. My husband and I spend a lot of time together at work and at home, but it was nice to spend time together outside of our daily grind. It was nice to be on a solo adventure-- just the two of us--and my halfhearted fear of having no buffers along was totally unwarranted. Even after being together for thirteen years, I think our little vacation actually made our relationship stronger. We're sometimes a bit too competitive with one another; we frequently argue over which of us has worked harder on a given day even though we both regularly put in over seventy hours of work each week. During this vacation, however, I felt like we were a well-oiled team, especially while heading in and out of Supai. We accomplished the adventure together, and I think we both needed to temporarily escape from our day-to-day lives to gain an improved perspective on things.

I'm very glad I made it back to Supai. Not many people can say they've been there, let alone been there twice in their lives. In a way, I can't help thinking that it was a last hurrah for my husband and me. We've come to the consensus that we'd like children in our near future, so this might have been the last chance for the two of us to take a trip like this as a couple--at least for the next decade or two.  I realize that having children means postponing some adventures, and I’ve finally gotten to the point where I’m okay with that.  I may never get back to Supai again, but I'm glad my husband and I made it there together.
 

Trout Madness

.......or Why Fly Fisherwomen should be Avoided like Wood Ticks

One of the greatest gifts my mom ever gave me was the love of reading. I started to read at a fairly young age and have been a voracious reader ever since. One of my earliest memories involves the two of us sitting on the living room couch while she quizzed me with oversized flashcards. Each card had a capital and lowercase letter from the alphabet along with a colorful image of an item beginning with that letter. I can still see the "Aa" card with a bright, red apple on it. Throughout school, whenever the teacher would be calling on students to read aloud to the class, I would secretly be hoping they'd call on me. I have no doubt that being a good reader at a young age helped set me up for a future of academic success.  I can also picture my younger self reclining in an old, yellow bean bag reading one of the Little House on the Prairie books while the scent of Pledge hung heavily in the air and the noise of my mom's vacuuming drowned out all other sounds. Getting immersed in a good book was a valid excuse for postponing household chores in my family, and I loved getting lost in books; that remains true today.


I still read a tremendous amount of literature, especially during our greenhouse off-season. There's nothing like curling up on the couch with a cup of coffee, a cuddly cat, and a good read.  I even started keeping a literary notebook years ago so I can keep track of the books I go through. A large number of notebook entries over the past few years have been related to fly fishing. One way I've found to keep spirits up during the long closure of the Wisconsin inland trout season is to fly fish vicariously through the writings of other fly fishers. One such book I just completed is Trout Madness by Robert Traver (aka John Voelker). It was a quick and entertaining read that transported me to many remote trout streams in Michigan's Upper Peninsula.

Within the first few pages of this book, I was already hooked by Traver's candid prose. Even his preface contained several proclamations that still ring true today:

…sometimes [a fisherman] fishes not because he regards fishing as being so terribly important but because he suspects that so many of the other concerns of men are equally unimportant. (p. viii)


In my view the best time to go trout fishing is when you can get away. (p. x)


It's interesting how the simplest phrases are often the most profound.


Because Trout Madness was published in 1960, the hint of chauvinism that appears in a couple chapters is excusable.  If I were to travel back in time to cross paths with John Voelker, I doubt I would be invited to tag along on any of his fishing excursions and would likely be looked upon as a curse to the sport of trout fishing, much like those damn bait fishermen he despises, but I forgive him for this folly (and secretly think I could win him over if given the chance).

 Some of the most enjoyable quotes from Trout Madness allude to the cursed female species:

When [fishermen] aren’t fishing they gabble and prattle about fishing much as clusters of idle women run on about babies and clothes—and the witch-like tendencies of other women. (p. 127)

Ignoring the offensive remark about idle women, Traver's description of the tendency for many fly fishermen to fill up their time off the water by prattling on about anything and everything related to the sport of fly fishing is spot on in my experience.

 And my favorite:

Women Fishermen:  Avoid them.  One kind will quietly out-fish you and generally get in your hair while another variety will come down with the vapors and want to go home just when the rise gets under way. Avoid all of them like wood ticks.

            (p. 144)

I don't think I've ever come down with the "vapors," but I do remember out-fishing some partners on rare occasions.


If something like the above quotes were published in fly fishing literature today, I'm sure you'd hear a huge outcry from both sexes, though I'm not so naive to assume all fly fishermen welcome women into their fishing camps with open arms. I've been lucky in my exploits to come across a good number of fly fishermen who have accepted me into their clan. I doubt they worry about me coming down with the "vapors," but if they secretly regard me as a blood sucking parasite, at least they keep it to themselves.