Pursuit Is Happiness

Tom McGuane once said he wishes he could just go outside and enjoy it, but that he needs a game to play. He was referring to fishing, but I think it applies to a lot of us in our outdoor pursuits. And “pursuits” is the key word here. For us, it’s fishing, clam digging, crabbing, oyster picking, the occasional bird hunt, and just about anything else we can “pursue.” And as we’ve recently learned, it doesn’t even need to be something edible. Our friend Danielle took us crystal hunting, and we had a ton of fun grubbing around in the dirt.

And we actually found a bunch.

Then, we took her mushroom hunting, which was so absorbing, we ended up completely lost in the woods. A bit more of an adventure than we were planning, but we eventually found our way back to the car before nightfall.

And we actually found a bunch.

Like McGuane, I wish I could just go out there and soak it in, but the games are so much fun I wouldn’t ever give ’em up. They give us reason, the push, to go outside, to watch weather and tide, to search. I realize now that what we find is happiness. Now, if only we could eat those crystals…


A Foreign Land

Ah…SoCal! After a quick turnaround, had to go to pretty much the polar opposite of northern British Columbia. Work trip with my buddy McCoy to check in at World Headquarters in Ventura, make a presentation, talk and meet about the film I’ve been working on the last couple of years. Aside from LAX and a 4-hour rush-hour drive in 12 lanes of brake lights, all good.

I will admit, it’s nice waking up with palm trees waving in a warm breeze outside my window, throwing on shorts, t-shirt and flipflops and heading off to work. A little different from the frozen spruce forest of BC, and the golden big-leaf maples of home, and in all truth, completely foreign to me. On my last night in Ventura, they were showing another film, which is always fun and festive. That’s the outdoor theater shortly before people started showing up. Outdoor movies in October? Incredible. Still, I was thankful to return home to the PNW autumn.

Quick Visit Home

Had three days between BC and the madness that is Southern California, so made the most of it with the kids and good food. (Like I needed more to eat after BC…) We were craving Mexican food, and the best bet for that around here is home cooking. Found some pork roasts on sale at the market and that sealed it for my dad’s chile verde recipe. Made a huge pot of it with lots of fresh cilantro, onions, jalapenos, tomatoes, tomatillo salsa, and the secret ingredient…jack cheese. That’s pretty much it–super simple and super easy. If you want to give it a shot, cut the pork into bite-size pieces, brown in canola oil, drain, then add the other ingredients and simmer for an hour or so. Can’t describe how good this makes the house smell while it’s cooking. Even if for just a brief time, it’s so good to be home.

My Home In The North

Whew! It’s been a little crazed around here with time in BC, then Ventura, then hustling to try to make up all the work and chores that accumulated while I was away. In short, I’ve been a little busy. But now I’m back and cranking up the blog again. Starting with British Columbia, and the Skeena in particular, which feels as much like home to me as where we actually live. That’s what it looks like, above.

We started with a few days of boat tinkering and party prep at the Hill house in Terrace. By Saturday, we were ready, and people poured in from all over the province to celebrate our great friend, Bruce Hill, on the anniversary of his passing. That’s my buddy Aaron Hill and Dr. Jacko prepping the lamb, above. What a feast! As if the lamb wasn’t enough, we made dozens of pizzas in the outdoor wood-fired oven, piled on the salads and veggies and desserts and wine, and wrapped it all up with a late-night bonfire. I think Bruce would approve.

Next day, Yvon, Rick, Aaron, Colin and I packed up our fish gear and headed up to The Shack. For more huge meals, more incredible wine (one older than me, and one older than Yvon), more fantastic stories, too many dogs to count, and more great friends stopping by to chat and eat. I should add that there were five gorgeous, pungent, fresh, black truffles from France that made their way into almost everything. That’s Yvon, above, demonstrating that his roast-lamb-and-barley soup could indeed support a spoon on its own.

Good thing the food and friends were good, because the fishing was not. We experienced historically low water–the Kispiox wasn’t even really fishable–and brutally chilly temps. We battled lines freezing up solid in the guides, and sheet ice forming on waders. We felt lucky to find even a few fish aggressive enough to chase down our flies. That’s a nice one from way up the Skeena, below. As someone said, “Fishing is just what we do to pass the time between meals.”

And yet, it was a time to be treasured, one I will savor for years to come. To Anne, Aaron, Julia, Yvon, Rick, Colin, Greg, Shannon, Gerald, Gail, the Clays, and all the rest of my northern family, a huge and mighty thanks. You are a blessing in my life.

Sunday Evening Fish

After a long afternoon of sitting on the couch watching football–yes, the Seahawks actually won–and stuffing ourselves with nachos and jalapeno poppers (thanks, Morgan!), we were in dire need of some outside time. Better yet, on-the-water time. Luckily, the tides were lining up just right, the wind fell out, and blue skies prevailed. So we loaded up the crew into Smarty’s party barge. That’s Pete, Weston, Skyla, Morgan and Halo preparing for a serious fish session.

Of course, we took turns on the rods, ensuring a peanut gallery of comments with every attempt. After working out some “casting issues,” we started putting flies in good spots. That’s Skyla on the bow trying to ignore the hostile crowd.

And yes, we even found a few fish–gorgeous, fat sea-run cutthroats that came up to eat our flies and make the peanut gallery cheer. Crisp, autumn air, blue skies, plenty of fish, and good friends. On the way back in, a huge, almost-full harvest moon rose to the east. Awesome. Thanks, Smarty!