Baby Bear Ties The Knot

“Now I see why you guys call him Baby Bear,” comments my wife after Bo and Louise’s wedding in spectacular, autumn leaves covered Victor Idaho. We are driving over the Tetons back to our room in Jackson. “Why do you say that?” I ask. “Because he is like a baby bear, gentle and kind, I don’t really know him, but he seems like he will be a great husband,” she comments. I can say the same for his new bride, Louise, I don’t really know her, but she seems like she will make an awesome wife.  I can see she really loves him.

Bo & Louise picked a brilliant venue, and the best time of the year to have an outdoor wedding. The fall leaves in the Jackson/Victor area is out of control pretty. I have more or less taken Jackson off my list of areas to fish because of the crowds. There’s a reason so many people flock to those areas—its stuffed to the brim with lovin. But I’m not interested in mountain crowds. However, seeing the Teton’s again knocked my right off my feet—I don’t know if I’ve seen prettier. The Saw Tooth Range in Stanley is a contender, Utah’s Timpanogus is nothing to scoff at, The Sierra Nevada’s will rock your world; I could list a dozen more, but come on, the Grand Teton’s are just perfect.

Before the wedding, we drove into the Elk Refuge, and I got to steal a few hours on the Gros Venture River. Honest to God, I would make a cast, then stop and take another look around. I was lucky enough to hook into some Fine Spotted Snake River Cuts, but truly I could care less if I caught a fish or not.

Eight years ago, Bo instantly became a beloved member of the West High faculty--even before he was officially part of the staff--as a student teacher for Marcie Thompson. He became a true brotha though on his first fishing trip, a member of the Magnificent 7. In the early days of some of us guys at West High went fishing together. We had a total of 7 guys on a trip, and it just seemed natural to call ourselves Magnificent.

Within less than 5 minutes of driving I heard the soft hum coming from someone snoring. “Who in the hell could already be asleep?” I asked. “Oh my God, Bo is sleeping,” laughed Tom. His hat was pulled down over his face, snuggled up and tucked in tightly between two grown men, Bo rested gently and our “Baby Bear” was born. A nick name has to fit, you can’t give one to yourself, and as time goes and you’re lucky, it feels right.

Being named baby bear goes deeper that just taking a nap, it’s an attitude, a style, a certain swagger that embossed him with the nick name “Baby Bear.” From all of the Magnificent, we’d like to give Baby Bear & Louise all our love and blessings. Hopefully his rocks have dropped and he’ll sire a cub of his own before too long—a baby baby bear.

Magnificent 7+1

The Magnificent +1 ride to the Cowboy State on a quest to do a little fishing, take in a little of the splendor of the Wyoming, and Wind River Mountain
Range, and to see who selected the best whiskey. Each bandit was instructed to bring a bottle from his state of choice, to see how it held up in the taste test with whiskeys distilled in other states. Here's a run down of the cowboys, and their state poison of choice:

Yul Brynner as Chris Adams,                  Dutch John Engel                                    Idaho

Steve McQueen as Vin Tanner,               Diamond James Tobler                           Ireland

Charles Bronson as Bernardo O'Reilly,   Bull Wilson                                             Utah

Robert Vaughn as Lee,                            Big Daddy Tom Szalay                           Calif

Brad Dexter as Harry Luck,                     Bone Dry Garth McFarland                    Dry

James Coburn   as Britt                            Spade (formerly The Oracle) Matheson Wy

Horst Buchholz as Chico,                        Baby Bear Bo Maciejko                          Colo

Eli Wallach as Calvera,                           Jake (no-nick name) Taber                      Dry

The winning states from top to bottom:

1. Idaho
2. Utah
3. Colo
4. Ireland
5. Calif
6. Dry
7. Dry
8. Wyoming

You might ask yourself, "How could the two dry non drinkers choice of beverage beat Wyoming?" The answer is easy, take a second look at which cowboy selected a spirit from Wyoming...? The Spade. You don't go from having a nick-name like The Oracle to The Spade by accident. But let's not be too rough on this cow-poke, when it comes to pickin' a destination The Spade never digs a grave. He may not know how to pick whiskey, but he's always welcome at the campfire.


Big shout out to all you boys for making this trip extra special. Jake--I hope you join in next time, you may even get a nick name. Baby Bear just watch Bull Wilson cast, its a work of art. Colorado whiskey is awesome, but it can't hold a candle to you Gents. Diamond--you manage to sparkle even while you hurl, fart and belch. Garth, straight as an arrow, grumpier than must grumpy old men, but a true blue stallion. Thanks Big Daddy for keeping the whole group together, and capturing it all.

Ferron Creek

Long lost fishing bro Colby (Bull) Wilson was back in the saddle again to wet a line and visit a river we have both had in our scope for a long time now--over a year. And since its the summer of Diamond James, he was the third musketeer--but by no means the third wheel. Ferron is not one of those rivers most people know about, and its a good hour past Price, so not a lot of fishermen from the area are going to make a trip just to fish it. Colby and I have been talking about it, and we keep trying to fish it, but things get in the way.

I know I still have a lot of work to do, to fish all the rivers/streams in the state, but in terms of the major rivers, I am running out of waters to fish--for the first time that is. Ferron was awesome, beautiful to look at and not too many people. In terms of fish, the lower section we hit in the morning had something clearly wrong with it, because we simply did not see more than 5 fish in the whole river. In fact we would get to great holes, and stomp through them, just to see if any fish would dart out--nothing. It was a crying shame, because it was the perfect size and the holes were fantastic. We could not figure out.

We headed to the upper section by Ferron and Duck Reservoir, and worked the river below the damn. Beautiful little cuts, hungry and ready to eat dries like hoppers and stimmies. The brush and dead fall was so think that I just cant imagine too many fishermen wanting to fish this section too hard. By the time we got back to the truck, we were all beat to hell--well at least I was.

As any of my readers know, (Roger and Math) I do the cooking, Dutch or cast iron. Its a favorite to do Brats with white onion, and a Jalapeño in a nut brown beer, then let it soak in the flavor, the brown to perfection. One little problem, I forgot the cast iron. I brought the stove and propane tank, but forgot the skillet. I was pretty pissed at myself.

Thank God for Bull Wilson and Diamond James, between the two of them, they came up with "Brat in a Beer Can" idea. We cut to top off a beer can, put the brat in with kraut, pepper and onion, then fill with brown beer. It was genius and delicious (see pic)

On the drive home, someone had the idea of taking the "Great Western Trail," which pretty much puts you in Salina--dirt road. I have no idea who the hell to blame for this. Thank God for a really interesting land mark, named Mary's Nipple. Of course we were wondering who Mary is?  How old is she today? Is she still alive? And most of all, is the mountain peak anything close to her actual nipples? The conversation lasted even longer than you can imagine. Odds are every single truck filled with males that drives past it plays out exactly the same fashion. Thank God we didn't have the Oracle with us, the conversation would have lasted the whole way home! It was quite the adventure. I got home ready to drop but happy. I think at this point I need to take a break from my mad adventures and lick my wounds for a spell...

Elephant Trainer

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Diamond James Tobler and I Baja across the Wyoming plains, with the windows of the lil' yellow truck down because the air conditioning is going out. We took I-80 from Casper through to Evanston. Every 50 miles or so, they were down to one land due to construction, and there were more semi's on the road than cars. I was beat to hell. I went on this fishing trip with every intention of scuffing my knees, of getting dirty and going hard. Well I did, and in the end, I don't think The Diamond was as hammered as I was. He drove most of the way, and I tried to catch a few winks, with little luck.

 

We got home about 8:00 and was in bed by 10:30 with little put away, because I had to catch a 5:00 a.m. flight to meet Sweet Melissa and the kids in San Fran. While I was off fishing the girls, along with Madeline's boy friend Fisher relaxed with the brother in law Lee aka Calvin.

 

I didn't drink coffee in the morning in hopes that I may actually sleep during the flight. I cant sleep when I fly, I just cant let go. This was the best flight of my life; boarded quickly, seated by two quiet people, didn't wake up until plane landed!

 

 

Oh, at this point I have to say this trip, has nothing to do with fishing, but since it was so closely and intimately linked to the Wyoming trip, its included. Believe it or not, it was as much fun as the Trout-law quest.

 

My wife booked a room in wine country right on the coast, right on the beach in a town called Sea Ranch. If you have not drove from San Fran up the coast through wine country, then you just need to; no further explanation required.

 

I talked Sweet into leaving the windows open, and the blinds open. We fell asleep to the sound of the ocean. I woke up in the middle of the night and stared at the moon on the water.

 

When we returned to the children, we took Fisher to see some of the sites of the City. One night the girls wanted to drive to Muir Beach. I have never seen whales on the northern Cal coast, but sure as hell, they were there in droves. (see above pics I call "Ocean Romance," and "Reflective Fisher" you'll know which ones they are.)

 

Before leaving, brother Lee is dating an elephant trainer, yes an elephant trainer. I know who the hell has that cool of a job. We got the hook-up. Keith arranged for the total VIP tour--see pics. I knew elephants had personality, but not like this. I had no idea the walrus had personality--they rock.

 

Driving back through the Nevada desert (not my favorite place) I began feeling anxiety to get back to work, to stop having such a damn good time, to slow down the fun train. I was also filled with joy. That's all I have to say about that.

 

 

Elephant Trainer

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Diamond James Tobler and I Baja across the Wyoming plains, with the windows of the lil' yellow truck down because the air conditioning is going out. We took I-80 from Casper through to Evanston. Every 50 miles or so, they were down to one land due to construction, and there were more semi's on the road than cars. I was beat to hell. I went on this fishing trip with every intention of scuffing my knees, of getting dirty and going hard. Well I did, and in the end, I don't think The Diamond was as hammered as I was. He drove most of the way, and I tried to catch a few winks, with little luck.

 

We got home about 8:00 and was in bed by 10:30 with little put away, because I had to catch a 5:00 a.m. flight to meet Sweet Melissa and the kids in San Fran. While I was off fishing the girls, along with Madeline's boy friend Fisher relaxed with the brother in law Lee aka Calvin.

 

I didn't drink coffee in the morning in hopes that I may actually sleep during the flight. I cant sleep when I fly, I just cant let go. This was the best flight of my life; boarded quickly, seated by two quiet people, didn't wake up until plane landed!

 

 

Oh, at this point I have to say this trip, has nothing to do with fishing, but since it was so closely and intimately linked to the Wyoming trip, its included. Believe it or not, it was as much fun as the Trout-law quest.

 

My wife booked a room in wine country right on the coast, right on the beach in a town called Sea Ranch. If you have not drove from San Fran up the coast through wine country, then you just need to; no further explanation required.

 

I talked Sweet into leaving the windows open, and the blinds open. We fell asleep to the sound of the ocean. I woke up in the middle of the night and stared at the moon on the water.

 

When we returned to the children, we took Fisher to see some of the sites of the City. One night the girls wanted to drive to Muir Beach. I have never seen whales on the northern Cal coast, but sure as hell, they were there in droves. (see above pics I call "Ocean Romance," and "Reflective Fisher" you'll know which ones they are.)

 

Before leaving, brother Lee is dating an elephant trainer, yes an elephant trainer. I know who the hell has that cool of a job. We got the hook-up. Keith arranged for the total VIP tour--see pics. I knew elephants had personality, but not like this. I had no idea the walrus had personality--they rock.

 

Driving back through the Nevada desert (not my favorite place) I began feeling anxiety to get back to work, to stop having such a damn good time, to slow down the fun train. I was also filled with joy. That's all I have to say about that.