Wednesday August 26

All along I was dreading washing the truck and camper....it had so many bugs on it that the front of the camper was black.....it would have taken forever to scrub them off. I also could not find any DIY carwashes with bays that the camper would fit in. I decided to try one of the truck washes that some of the truck stops had. Holy moly.........was I glad I did. A guy was actually going to wash it for me. I asked the guy if he thought he could get all those bugs off and he said that he thought he could. Every single bug was washed from the truck and camper.......it was gleaming.....total cost of the wash???? 13 bucks.....and it took them a grand total of 9 minutes to do the job. I was in a state of euphoria...I got my whole day back for a mere 13 dollars. I was so pumped I had the oil changed too....where the oil change kid notified me that a mouse had taken up residence in the air filter during the trip.

Drove more.....to Toledo Ohio.....Sat in the rain for the Toledo Mud Hens game to start but it never did.....one of the players ran around the bases on the tarp and dove head first into second and again into home, the crowd went wild......the game was postponed so I kept driving.....and driving........

Tuesday August 25

Drove....drove.....drove....

Stopped at the Herbert Hoover birthplace for a walk around......not my cup of tea but it was good to stretch the legs a bit. Hoover was known as the fishing president. He was integral in preserving land for National Parks including a few I’d been in on this trip. Gleaning a book about his fishing exploits in the gift shop, I noticed he’d fished nearly all the rivers I’d fished on my trip......pretty cool.

Next stop was Ronald Reagan’s boyhood home.......a snoozer.

More driving....stopped just west of Chicago and attended another baseball game. The Kane County Cougars.....it was tons of fun and a much warmer experience that last nights game. Caught a foul ball, ate 2 delicious ears of corn, and found myself upstairs on this upper patio engaged in a conversation with an usher named Margaret. She told me that the area’s largest industry was this place that actually attempted to split atoms. She said that right beneath where we were standing was a 5 mile wide circular tunnel used to get the atoms up to speed before smashing them together.

There was also a group of people up on the deck that were having a private party for their kid, Tyler Ladendorf, who was just traded to the Cougars. Before I knew it I was part of the family......Curt, Stu, and Justin let me into their worlds for a few hours.

Stu was a mechanic who taught classes on transmissions for a local college. He was the nicest of guys and the kindest of souls......we hit it off pretty good and he just couldn’t believe that I just happened to stop here on my way though the area.......we discussed all things Chicago and Boston.

Uncle Curt was the one who initially welcomed me into the group. He was thrilled about his nephew’s success. He went around egging everyone on.....he was the life of the party.

Justin was a 3rd year middle school PE teacher who had started school that day....I felt bad for him. We traded a few PE war stories and I asked him which units his students enjoyed the best.....his number one answer was.....the game that is a microcosm of life.....the game that teaches you how you lose with grace....dodgeball.

I was introduced to every member of the family, offered drinks, and even a piece of birthday cake...I think I even ended up in the family photograph.

We said our goodbyes, hugged it out, and I headed back downstairs when the game was over.......where I ran into the elated....and intoxicated....Sue. They were letting people, kids mostly, run the bases after the game, so I asked Sue if she wanted to run with me and she said yes.......so we ran together all the way around while Margaret the usher yelled “Go Boston” from the upper deck ...I wasn’t sure Sue was going to make it but gave me a high five and a hug as she crossed home plate. Sue and her husband Joe had visited Glacier national park many times and were pumped that I did the same. Sue said, “It gave me ten thousand heart attacks driving up that road.”

Drove for another couple of hours after the game and noticed a sign that said, “Michael Jackson’s Boyhood Home 1 Mile Ahead”. It was after 11pm but I thought what the heck. I headed in to what was basically..... the ghetto. Driving up to the house, the first thing I noticed was a police car parked out front. The house was very small almost as small as a large shed you’d store your lawnmower in. Arranged neatly outside the front door were lots of flowers and stuffed animals. I had the feeling that someone was still living in the house and that they had tidied up and arranged all the articles so that their yard wasn’t a mess. Around the back I noticed that the shades were drawn but lights were on. It was hard to imagine that the King of Pop and his brothers all lived under this one small roof....Michael had spent his first eleven years there. I also though it was a little weird that someone else was living in the Jackson’s house.

Monday August 24

Longest driving day of the trip so far.....probably 10 hours before stopping at the Iowa Cubs game in Des Moines. I got in the door for a dollar as it was dollar night at the park. The place turned out to be pretty sterile and stuffy and the crown didn’t show much enthusiasm. At the end of the game the scoreboard urged the crowd to “Make Noise!” A bunch of little kids up in a sky box were tooting these funny little horns and were yelled at by some adults because they were making too much noise.....????.

Sunday August 23

Drove east out of Cody, Wyoming up over a 9000 ft pass in the Bighorn National Forest. My goal was to eat another one of those delicious steaks at the Alpine Inn in the Black hills of South Dakota. After a 7 hour drive I arrived to find that they were closed on Sundays.....I should have called first. It only took me a little out of the way and I ended up at the County Fair in Rapid City, SD. It was an ok diversion from driving.....but that’s about it....It was pretty lame. Rapid City is a little rough around the edges and the townies were out in full force.

I still had steak on the brain and I hadn’t hit a Golden Corral on my trip yet.... needless to say, the steak was extra good at the Corral.....along with the rest of the buffet.

I continued east and ended up stopping back at Wall Drug for the night as the wind and lightening increased. I stopped at Wall because I didn’t want to be exposed sleeping at one of the truck stops on the wide open grasslands of SD. Before I stopped I was making crazy gas mileage as the wind was pushing the broad back of the camper right along down the highway.

Saturday August 22

On my way into Yellowstone I drove south along the Madison River where I saw the Butte boys from yesterday floating along the river in their raft......I blasted the horn and they all gave a hearty wave. It was around 10am......they’d clearly risen a few hours later than planned.

Fished a Tom Sauer special secret spot right outside the West Yellowstone entrance to the park. Special thanks go once again to the elusive and cagy former Montana guide, Tom Sauer, for giving me some nuggets of info that helped make the trip. His directions took me to yet another magnificent spot.......wild, mountainous, and quiet. Among other smaller trout I caught one brutish 16 inch rainbow. I figured this might be the last time I’d be fishing on the trip so I savored every moment. Before I left I stuffed my hat in my waders and splashed water all over my face and head......baptized by the holy water I hoped I’d be knee deep in Montana again sooner than later.......

Showered in the same shower at the Old Faithful Inn that I’d used 3 times previous and then sat in the lobby for a few hours.....what I really wished was that my family was with me, sitting alongside me in those legendary chairs. I hoped that someday we could all be together in a place like Yellowstone. In a way, it would be kind of a culminating activity for lives filled with camping and the outdoors. Something about all of us sitting in those chairs in what could be described as the holiest temple of nature, the Old Faithful Inn, its 100 year old lodge pole pine beams high above and the wildest of America outside ..... it would just seem right.

Driving through the park I spoke to a guy who told me that today was “Christmas in August” in the park. On this day some years ago a bunch of snow fell, trapping visitors in the inns and campgrounds for a few days. With nothing to do they decided to celebrate Christmas (don’t ask me why) and the tradition was started. The supposed highlight was a parade of boats decorated with Christmas lights driven by Lake Lodge on Yellowstone Lake.....it turned out to be a bust as the boats were no where near shore and not all that decorated.....oh well.

Out of the park to Wally in Cody.....again 40 plus campers.

Friday August 21

Tried the Lower Ruby this morning.....a way shorter drive from town. The only species of trout that I hadn’t caught on the trip so far that I should have was a brown. I’d heard that that’s all there were in the lower Ruby. For three hours of fishing I managed one measly brown. Drove into town and took a nap with the genny, tv and ac on. I returned to the Lower Ruby again at dusk.......and caught no fish at all.....couldn’t believe that there were no fish rising to the billions of bugs flying around.

On my way back to Yellowstone I stopped in a town called Ennis where the scene at the two local bars was raging. Ennis is sort of a gateway town to fishing the over popular Madison River and it definitely has a “wild west” flair to it. There was a band playing that seemed to specialize in 80’s music which was cool......the guitar guy loved Van Halen and they played at least 4 VH songs including Panama and Eruption......you can imagine. By the time I left the place it was 3am, I’d drank about ten Pepsi’s, none of which I paid for, and had conversation with nearly everyone in the place. Highlights included four guys from the city of Butte who were away from their wives etc for a guys weekend. This one kid named Mono (short for Monahan) was the life of the party. He kept calling me UMass (probably stemming from the fact that his only encounter with Massachusetts was the 1AA playoff confrontations between the Montana Grizz and UMass football during the last few years)....he loved my accent and told me I reminded him of Matt Damon and all the recent films that took place in Boston. He and his buddies were going to a ten hour float and fish down the Madison in a raft tomorrow and begged me to come along. I told them I had to keep moving and declined their offer.......again and again for the next 3 hours. They were all a blast.....I learned a lot including the fact that these dudes were going to use lures to fish and not flies. I found this amazing. Here we are at the Mecca of fly fishing and these heathens were going to fish it with lures. I loved that......they were from Montana and I guess the natives have a little different outlook on fishing than the snobby tourists who were willing to shell out $500 for the exquisite privilege of fly fishing one of the great rivers of the west.

Other notables included
-a guy and his wife who were planning to go to the annual Virginia City Ball, a total gala where everyone dresses up in period costumes and dances the night away
-a guy in a cowboy had that claimed he was a senator who all he really wanted to do was pick fights with everyone
-a 21 year old girl who was trying college for the “last time”, she’d done a stint in rehab and seemed to be getting it together
-and the singer of the band, this rail thin guy who sang a few songs using his wireless mike from the middle of the street outside the place.

Everyone (except the “senator”) was really fun to talk to....I learned a lot about what it meant to them to be from Montana. I fell asleep in the camper across the street to the thumping sounds of the bands equipment being loaded into the trailer.

Thursday August 20

Woke and fished my brains out....stayed out for hours. One of my goals was to catch the elusive Arctic Grayling.....and I managed several beauties.....as well as cutthroat, rainbows, and even a few of the ever popular mountain whitefish. The section of river I was fishing was virtually pressure free, seldom fished by anyone. I had the place to myself and I was indeed alone in the wild.......it was one of the highlights of my entire trip, and was the experience I’d been most seeking when I left Sterling four weeks ago. Well over 40 fish caught by day’s end......I couldn’t have asked for more.

After trying a few different spots further down stream I headed back down the dusty road to Dillon. I wondered what the place was like in winter....... so I asked the waitress at the Pizza Hut in town some questions. She said it was miserably cold and snowy and that her school had zero snow days. She said her father had to bust through the snow at end of her driveway with a backhoe in order to get out........

She also said that her school football program was one of the best in the state and that on some Friday’s, the players were dismissed around noon for away games that were as far as 4 hours away.....they didn’t stay overnight after the game and often returned home around 3am Saturday morning.

Wednesday August 19

Bought some new white t-shirts at TJ Maxx in Missoula before driving to Dillon, MT. Hit a fly shop to get some last minute intel on the river I was going to fish next.....the Upper Ruby. To get to the Upper Ruby you need to drive roughly 60 miles on dirt roads. Huge tracts of Montana land is being bought up by wealthy out of towners. This is a large bone of contention with the native Montanians, who after the price of land is driven up, can’t afford to by land themselves. On the way, I believe I drove through wilderness owned by Ted Turner.

In Montana you are allowed access to any river as long as you stay below the high water mark. The problem is....... if the river I surrounded on all sides by hundreds of miles of privately owned land, one can walk a very long way from a bridge or other public access point to reach the prime water. In a sense, these ritzy out of towners are eliminating public access to some of the better rivers at an alarming rate. This is especially true of the Ruby river......hence the 60 plus mile drive to state owned land.

The Ruby didn’t disappoint.........and I think that on this day my love for Montana finally took top billing on the list of my favorite places to be and to fish. Montana is truly the most wild place I’ve ever been. It’s America’s 4th largest state but has one of its smallest populations. The views are stunning at every turn, the summertime temps are cool, and the fish are simply everywhere..... in every pocket, pool, and riffle, in every river.

Before bed at desolate Cottonwood Campground I caught a ton of trout all on dry flies.

Tuesday August 18

Crossed Oregon and a bit of Washington and stopped for a few hours in a town called Coeur d’Alene in Idaho. The town surrounded a lake of the same name....it was hot so the lake and the beach were crowded. Seaplanes were taking off giving tourists rides around the lake. It reminded me of when I did that somewhere with my mom when I was a kid. Ate some fairly bad pizza on a recommendation from the office of tourism and headed out of town.....it was a decent break from the road.

On the way out of town I noticed what looked like a bunch of cars around some kind of dirt track.....turned out to be the Tuesday night local BMX races. It was pretty cool....kids of all ages.....one kid was so small he couldn’t make it up some of the hills and needed to be pushed. On the other end of the spectrum there were the nutty kids who’d fly through the air with no fear at all. It was the highlight of the day.

Took a shower around 10pm and slept at the Wally in Missoula, Montana....at least 40 other campers in the lot.

Monday August 17

The NFMF is a slice of Heaven. It’s one of the nicest, purest, most scenic spots I know of on the planet. The place where the camper was set up had a nice view of the river and the mountains behind it. We each caught a couple trout, but as Matt said, “You don’t need to catch any fish to have a great day at the NFMF”. We fished around and hung around until about 1:00.

We headed to the Lower Willamette for float and fish in a classic Mackenzie style drift boat with our friend, Scott. A drift boat, is like a row boat with a high bow...one guy rows in the middle, one guy fishes in the front and the other in the back. It is designed to take on rocks and rapids while providing the perfect moving platform to fish. The float was fantastic and Matt had the hot fly. He managed to catch about eight decent sized trout. Certain times in your life you feel you are in the right place at the right time and that’s how it felt floating the Willamette that night...the temp was perfect...the sun was nice...it was a perfect summer night....I feel fortunate to have had such a great opportunity...and a special shout out is due to Scott Kinney who took us for the float in his boat.......

We managed to see one steelhead taken by a unique looking dude.......it took him over a half an hour to land it. I guess what was so funny about it was that the fish was so big and the guy was such a unique looking character, note the picture.....

The last hoorah...it was time to head back east, but before we did, we went out to eat one last time. The place was called Good Times. It appeared to be the Eugene breeding ground for future participants in the World Wrestling Federation. TVs in the place showed nothing but WWF wrestling from the 80’s at obnoxiously full volume. The wait staff looked like they were the inter-continental tag team champs. You can imagine the high quality of the service. It took them over an hour to prepare Matt’s sandwich. I asked one guy for a Coke refill and he told me to go to the bar and get it myself because he was busy. I should have thrown the figure four leg lock on him.

We said our goodbyes and it was time to start the long ride home back to Massachusetts...

Found a Super Wal-Mart a couple hours north of Eugene. There was this motley crew of haggard looking dudes that got off a tour bus and went into Wal-Mart. It turned out they were a band called, The Maine. They were currently on The Warped Tour.....whatever.

Sunday August 16

Slept in late again...hung around Matt’s until about 2:00. We met up with all of Matt’s family at the Scandinavian Festival. The Scandi Fest is basically the Sterling Fair except everyone involved wears a blue vest. We watched some traditional dancing performed by students in national dress. It was kind of a snoozer. Then it was tennis time...

When I first asked Matt if he wanted to play doubles with me in the Scandi tourney, he wasn’t sure his body and skills could hack it, but after seeing him hit the other day, I knew we had a chance. Keep in mind, Matt hadn’t picked up a racket in twenty years. We would have to win four rounds to win the Scandi title. Round one, I thought we were going to have some trouble because they looked good....older guys who had clearly played a before...sometimes the older guys are the most dangerous. We took care of business. Next we took on the typical teenager who tried to hit the ball as hard as he could, but fortunately, he hit too many of them off the fence in the air. We took that match too. In our third match, we had some problems. Two high school kids...one was super aggressive at the net. We were only playing one set against every opponent and at one point in the match was 4 all. We managed to win the next two games, winning 6-4 and headed to the finals. While we gave them a good fight, we didn’t play well enough to win the finals...it’s as simple as that. When all was said and done, we kept in mind that Matt hadn’t played in twenty years and had a lot more fun than maybe he anticipated. His emotions went from early skepticism to intensity. With all the childhood sports moments we shared, it was great to do it again.

Playing the actual game of tennis is one thing...it has its value for fitness and competition, but tennis has had a much greater affect on my life. Learning the skills of the game has provided me so many opportunities to share great experiences with many types of people, be it in the next town or even a far away country. When you are young you are unable to understand the potential benefits of so much of what you do. The game continues to give back to me and I am so glad I got involved with it back in high school.
After the tourney we went back to Matt’s where Rina served up some chicken and mac & cheese. We took a shower and then took the hour drive up into the woods, near Oakridge, Oregon for some fishing tomorrow on the North Fork of the Middle Fork of the Willamette River

Saturday August 15

Slept til nearly 10:00 am after the long day yesterday. Worked on the blog for about two hours. I decided to enter the mixed and men’s doubles tennis tournaments at Junction City, Oregon’s annual Scandinavian Festival. Bought a pair of tennis shorts at Bi-Mart and got swept in the mixed open division. After the tourney, we headed into Eugene to meet Matt, Rina and the kids at the Eugene Emerald’s baseball game. The Em’s ballpark reminds me a lot of the one in Pittfield, MA. It’s old and is made mostly out of wood. I believe that both ballparks are two of the five oldest in the country. One misplaced cigarette butt could torch that place to the ground. Sadly, it’s the final season at this ballpark as the Em’s will be playing at the baseball complex of the University of Oregon next year.

Highlight of the day was sitting Matt’s backyard around an awesome fire with Matt and his family. Loved the fire in the fire pit.....