Plus One

The cat is out of the bag; Dustin and I are expecting a new addition to the family in early June.  This new addition is not the four legged-canine variety, but a real human baby boy.  Whoa!  To say this was unexpected and a surprise, is quite an understatement.  I never planned to be a parent.  I guess what they say is true about the best laid plans…

The adventures of Dustin and I will never be the same.  In fact, nothing in our lives will be the same.  Due to this new reality, Antlers & Gills took a bit of a hiatus.  In fact, I took a bit of hiatus from online life.  Adjusting to our new family status has proven difficult.  I’ve needed a period to grieve the life that I lost and accept the new life ahead of us.  It has been a process; a process I continue to endure.  To be honest, the motivation and inspiration to write has ran short lately. 

The baby is healthy and growing.  For this we are thankful.  Dustin is bursting at the seams with joy.  I do believe he is excited enough for the both of us!  He will be a fantastic dad.    

Antlers and Gills will be back soon, hopefully, with a gear review.  It is a review I have meant to post for quite some time. 

I hope everyone is well.

-Stephanie

Bristol Bay–Stay Wild

Bristol Bay – I have never visited you, but I dream of you.  Bristol Bay – you have been a life source to so many walks of life for generations.  Bristol Bay – you are home to the largest run of sockeye salmon in the world.  Bristol Bay – your waters are priceless.  Bristol Bay – you need our help.

Bristol Bay is one of those magical places, a place that stirs emotions, visions and touches lives.  I’ve never been to Bristol Bay, but I cannot help but be utterly captivated by this region.  The Pebble Mine, with all its destructive impacts, is the primary reason why I decided to focus my life and my education on fisheries conservation.  I know the Pebble Mine will destroy a great and wild place, and I want to do all that I can to stop the madness. 

I’m not alone in this fight – the people of the region have spoken.  The people know what the largest open pit mine in the world will do to the wild and pristine place they call home.  Pebble Partnership tries to spin this environmental catastrophe as a win-win for all involved.  One of the things the Pebble Partnership must do is dam a river to create a tailing pond.   Have we not learned our lesson about damming salmon spawning rivers?  Not only that, think about all the chemicals that will leach into the ground water supply and water table.  Consider all of those toxins flowing into the lifeblood of the region.  Pebble claims this will not impact the salmon runs and salmon industry are completely erroneous. Moreover, mining means development, and development means roads.  These roads will spread across miles and miles of salmon habitat.  Sediment transport anyone?  Not to mention the other water quality impacts vehicles have to streams.  Do you know how many pollutants come from vehicles?  Copper, extremely detrimental to fish, comes from brakes…and the list goes on.  Who wins from this again?  Only the Pebble Partnership. 

Colorado still pays the price for its mining heritage.  Over a century later, research is conducted to find the best plan of action to handle all of the destruction done by mining.   Hundreds of miles of stream still bear mining scars.  Hundreds of miles of stream have not recovered.  Species have been lost forever.  Is this the future we want for Bristol Bay? 

Educate yourself about Bristol Bay. 

Keep fighting the fight. 

NO PEBBLE MINE! 

-Stephanie

Uncharted Territory

Two weeks from today, Dustin and I will be wandering around the mountains searching for elk.  Yes, the hunting bug finally hit him, and he wants to go see what we can see.  This being his first year as an “elk hunter” we aren’t expecting to down a big bull.  However, if somehow the stars align and we do…it sure will be a treat hauling all that meat out of the backcountry.  Egads! 

Dustin is a great whitetail hunter.  Back home, much of year was spent preparing for deer season.  He’d get out his bow and staring shooting in the summer, cameras stayed out most of the year, stands were hung months prior, and shooting lanes were carved when the time fit.  With elk hunting, the whole game changes.  The stands no longer optima.  Elk don’t seem to have any sort of movement pattern – nothing predictable or routine with these massive ungulates.  The cameras, much the same situation, not a whole lot of insight can be garnered from them.  This new style of hunting requires some schooling…so the last few days I have been studying at Elk University.

CDOW provides outdoor enthusiasts with all kinds of information.  Their website is easy to navigate, and the people in the Fort Collins office are friendly and knowledgeable.  With their insight, we were able to identify the most common range for elk during the season we picked.  Not only are the workers at CDOW extremely helpful, the website provides a lot of tools to increase your chances.  The department put together a series of learning modules and dubbed it Elk University.  For us noobs, it has been extremely informative.

I have no idea how this adventure will turn out.  Unfortunately we don’t have elk beating down our door, like this guy in the above pic.  We’re going where the elk still act like wild animals.  Who knows where they will be.  Winter is settling in in the high country, and all the miles we might have to hike could really play havoc on us.  We’re selecting our gear wisely and will have our SPOT.  No matter what, I think this will be an experience we won’t soon forget.

-Stephanie

Simpler Times

Something must be in the water, because Erin over at Mysteries Internal just posted a “rant of sorts”, and I am about to do the same.  This post started with the theme of “being dubbed a “fisherwoman”, and how being a girl somehow makes you entitled or special”.  However, Erin wrote the post much better than I.  So please, go check out her post.  It will help you get a feel for how I feel about this issue.   

Now for my second rant – What is it really all about?  The recent past has brought about a disturbing trend in fishing blogging – blogs that exist because people need attention.  I started this blog so my family could follow along on Dustin and my adventures.  For a little over a year, I read a few blogs in secret.  With the birth of the OBN, I was exposed to many more blogs.  For the most part, I really enjoyed reading other people’s stories, liked learning new techniques, valued gaining education about all facets of outdoor activity, and feeling people’s passion through their writing.  However, recently, it seems some blogs only exist only so the person can gain notoriety, free swag, likes or followers.  “I only need x amount of followers to get to 500…follow me!  Who can get to x amount of likes first! etc etc.  It seems the quality of the blog is based on these things.  That is utter rubbish.  When did enjoying the outdoors become a contest in popularity?  Do people really fish to make some kind of name for themselves?  Do people go out just so they can put something on their blog?  Is it really about enjoying nature anymore?

Perhaps I am getting a better look at this because my time is so limited.  My reading list has dwindled down to those few blogs that are there for the right reasons – blogs that exude passion, pass on tricks, or provide laughs.  I have taken off the blog list on the front page, and added a “page” with a list of blogs I try to check frequently.  I have removed the Facebook feature, the follow feature and the twitter button from my blog.  My experiences do not need validation, attention or anything else.  My experiences are for me, and if my family and friends so chose to read, for them.  Don’t get me wrong, I appreciate all comments and all readers.  For those of you that enjoy reading our stories, I do hope you will continue.  I enjoy sharing our adventures with whomever wishes to read them.  However, I refuse to exploit my gender as a fly fisherman to obtain free goodies.  I refuse to let my value be measured in how socially networked I am.  I refuse to let this blog take value away from the pure simplicity of nature.  I refuse to go into the backcountry with the sole purpose being a good story.  Fellow bloggers, please don’t forget what enjoying the beauty of nature is all about.   

I realize this will rub people the wrong way, and frankly if it does, then we perhaps are not on the same page, and our blog ways may not pass again.  I am okay with that.  My two cents has been said. 

-Stephanie  

What is in a Name: Rocky Mountain Frenzy

Assign a title like “frenzy” and a frenzy is what you will get.  Thanks to all who made this a trip that Emily won’t soon forget!

I wish I had pictures to share, but our camera took a swim last week during my fisheries class lab.  Emily took several, and with 10 people on Boulder Creek Saturday, I do believe a large amount of photographic journaling will be available on everyone’s blogs!

• Emily: The River Damsel
• Erin: Mysteries Internal
• Sean: Up the Poudre
• Howard: Wind Knots and Tangled Lines
• Jay: Colorado Fly Fishing Reports
• Kyle: Compleat Thought
• Dave: Backcountry Fish Nerd
• Jen: Fly Fishilicious
• Larry: Fly Fishing Crazy 

I know I might be missing some of you…apologies!

Back to the grind,

-Stephanie

You say it is Hunting Season…

Antlers and Gills, eh?  Lately, I have had to ask myself where are the antlers?!  Normally this time of year, Dus and I have perused countless trail-cam photos, bought several trophy rocks, scouted night after night, and on September 15th I lose Dustin to the woods.  Rain, shine, sleet, snow – he would go out no matter what.  Dustin’s anticipation for deer season was contagious; I began to get as excited as he did.  I made him a hunting journal, went out and sat in the blind with him, helped hang stands, etc etc.  Fall and early winter were always times of great anticipation.  This year, all of that is missing, and well, to be frank, it just doesn’t feel right.

Hunting season opened here in CO a few weeks ago, but you would never know it in our house.  The totes full of hunting gear remain in the attic, the bow untouched and the Dead Down Wind sits dusty on the shelf.  There has been no murmur of hunting until the other day when Dustin finally went in to chat with DOW.  Instead of coming home eager about new hunting opportunities (he can hunt so many species here!) he comes home with this gem.  “For season 3 this area is home to a lot of elk, but I don’t want to be this close to Glenwood Springs and hunt, I would want to fish.”  HA.  I think his conversion from bowhunter to fisherman is almost complete.  I could not believe the words came out of his mouth.  Of course I agree with his opinion.  No way am I driving all the way to Glenwood to go chase elk; if I drive to Glenwood I am hitting up all that gold medal water! 

Now, it is not just the fishing that factors into this equation.  Dustin isn’t sure he even wants to hunt elk.  Change, well he doesn’t do it well, and elk hunting is a HUGE change from hunting whitetail.  Not to mention, we will have to quarter and pack out the animal who knows how many miles.  They are also bigger and bloodier than a whitetail, another item he isn’t thrilled with.  Then there is gear – we have to buy a whole slew of new gear.

As it stands now, he plans to go back to MO for a few hunts.  I hope he can get a couple of does for us, and we can spend this winter, spring and summer contemplating CO hunting options.  After all, this is ANTLERS and gills.  This fall and winter, I do believe we will disappoint, as the boy mostly will just be a fisherman.  While the deer at home would tremble in their hooves when Dustin climbed into his stand, the elk and mulies here in CO might just come up and give him a kiss.      

-Stephanie

Pot of Gold

Sleepless nights, headaches, indigestion, thoughts of why in the hell am I doing this reverberating in my brain, and bitchiness – all signs that the school year has begun.  The last three weeks have passed in a whirlwind, and my plate gets heavier by the day.  Twelve hour days on campus make for a grumpy girl.  Dustin, when I am not biting his head off, is at work – 70 hours last week.  Tensions at our house are high – even if the date is only September 10. 

Forgoing the responsible thing, Dustin and I decided to escape to the backcountry to re-energize and focus over Labor Day weekend.  Focus came the way of hiking 25 miles in two days.  Reenergizing and focusing with 25 miles you say…yes, indeed.   Instead of a reward at the end of the rainbow, we like to think the hiking always pays off in the end in our own version of a pot of gold.  Littered along the trail are little gold pieces, urging us to keep putting one boot in front of the other.  It is for these reasons that the urge to get away is so strong in both of us. 

Friday night we had to book it.  Due to school, we didn’t get on the trail until after 5:30, with 6 miles to hike before we reached our campground for the evening.  Walking up to our patch of dirt at 8:15, with headlights aglow, we let out a sigh of relief.  Dinner stayed in the bear canister, and heads hit the pillows within 30 minutes. I hoped to sleep like a rock; alas I did not, but it was still a good feeling to wake up in the backcountry, rather than at home with a horrible day looming.

 

Saturday we had about 5 miles to hike to get to the next camping destination, and then another mile to our fishing destination.  Our long week played havoc on our legs – fatigue, she was a present.  Hobbling into camp, we had lunch and set up our “mobile home”.  Once settled, we headed to fish – finally, our pot of gold.

  

Fishing was consistent – we had a blast.  Every fish that came to net looked healthy and put up a good fight.  The summer feeding season has treated these guys well.  We were glad we got to cash in on these final few days of summer.  High mountain lake season will be over before we know it. 

In fact, fall has definitely arrived in the high country.  Temperatures hovered right around 55º for highs, and the lowest (that I know) temperature reading in our tent was 30.1º.  We watched the temperature drop 10+ degrees while we made dinner Saturday night.  Shrubs wore autumn colors, tundra grasses were brown and crunchy and morning frost blanketed the ground cover.      

Sunday morning we had the worst breakfast ever, Backpacker’s Pantry Granola with Blueberries.  Long story short, Dustin and I almost threw up – at least to the step of gagging.  Once we both gagged, we decided to pack out the contents because that crap wasn’t going into either of our bellies.  After loading up camp, we made the hike back up the mountain to hit up the lakes one more time. 

We started the morning stripping a streamer – hoping to get the big dogs of the lake.  Turns out joke was on us, we were catching the smaller guys!  The thing about stripping is, you can take your eyes off the water, and when I did, I was treated to a sight of two cow moose coming down to the lake for a quick morning drink.

It seemed like the perfect moment – standing in a mountain lake, all is quiet, the wildlife came out to play…a true wilderness experience.  This is when I decided to scan the ridge to see if we could spot any elk or sheep still lingering in the high country.  Unfortunately we did not see any of that, but the moon was still shining….

Oh yes, in 40º temps this man felt it fitting to do his yoga, in his skin hugging speedo layer.  From my vantage point I could see every contour of this man’s nether region.  Ugh!  Wilderness experience…ruined.  Not only did this guy continue to do his yoga for about 20 minutes, he didn’t move to a more private location mind you, he watched us catch fish while he “stretched”.  After his yoga was complete, he took off, still in speedos, still in plain view, still 40º, and fished…holy balls of steel.  I was freezing my ass off, but speedo man, he could wet wade.  This took back to nature to a whole different level.  Don’t get me wrong, I have no problem with this guy reconnecting with nature by doing yoga in his speedos.  However, he knew we were there – there are a million places he could have gone, and continued without an audience.  Not only was I peeved because I got a full view of ass and balls right after seeing moose, I figured this couple (she got up topless about 30  min later)probably stealth camped.  A few more people thinking the rules do not apply to them. 

Anyhow, Dustin and I continued to catch fish throughout the day.  We made the executive decision to fish until 3PM, and then hike to the car.  It was a long haul, but homework had to be made a priority.  For the first time, Dustin and I made the responsible choice and forewent another day of playtime for homework and rest.  I sure would have liked a few more fish in the net, and another night under the chilly stars, but I am happy I got the bit of time in the backcountry I did.

A side note: I have no idea what direction the new information will take us regarding the taxonomic issues surrounding the Greenback CT.  I must say, whatever they are, Greenback, or not, these are absolutely gorgeous fish.  I hope the Front Range is able to introduce these back to their original native areas; however, I realize that not all native areas now provide adequate habitat for these finicky cutthroats.  The one thing I do know for certain, everyone needs to experience their unparalleled beauty.

-Stephanie

PSA: Camping in Bear Country

RMNP is home to 24 black bears. Five of those 24 will die this year. Their demise is not due to natural causes, rather human stupidity. While obtaining our backcounty permit last weekend, the BCO officer alerted us to the bears on the chopping block. It seems the park has had trouble this year with inconsiderate visitors, and the bears are feeling those consequences with a large dose of euthanasia.

I've thought about this issue since Sunday. The more I roll it around in my mind, the more frustrated I become. The park is great about alerting visitors to all the dangers that one could encounter in the backcountry. Not only does the park make visitors aware of those dangers, it does a fantastic job letting visitors know how to avoid trouble. Nowhere is the park's diligence on better display than the bear warnings.

Bears are curious, smart and hungry animals. Their sense of smell is unparallaled. So yes they can smell that ham sandwich in your cooler. Not only does their nose alert them to scrumptious treats you think are hidden, the container itself lets the bear know goodies are inside. Due to the increasing amount of people thinking coolers are safe bear storage, bears now associate coolers with reward - delicious people food. Bears that have encountered food at campgrounds, now associate campers with food - a dangerous association. Bear run-ins, especially in RMNP, can be prevented if people would just get a clue. When the park demands proper bear storage containers, they mean it. The signs - YES THEY APPLY TO YOU! I know people like to think that they are exempt from signage rules, but you are not. That includes, not approaching OR feeding wildlife, using proper bear storage containers, staying off the tundra and stopping along Trail Ridge Road! All of these rules I see broken everytime I work at or visit the park.

People like to think of the national parks as belonging to them. Indeed these parks are for the people, but first and foremost these parks are home to all sorts of flora and fauna. We should respect these animal and plant's home. Certain rules apply in RMNP, just as they would in someone's house. Don't ignore those rules, instead follow them and potentially save a bear, other plant or animal's life.

Summer Wrap-Up: Wildlife

Where did my summer go?!  I knew that time would fly while exploring CO this summer, but I had no idea it would fly so FAST!  The last few weeks I have been MIA on the interwebs because I have tried to soak up as much mountain playtime as possible.  I spent a good chunk of time volunteering in RMNP which was intriguing and fun as always.  I’m sad to say good-bye to my summer, but excited to start new endeavors that come with a fresh semester. 

Time, it is in limited supply for me.  Due to this fact, the narrative shall be brief for the upcoming posts and a small sampling of photos will appear.  A feast for the eyes, perhaps, instead of the usual diet of verbage.  I’ll split up the posts into wildlife and scenery.  I do hope you all enjoy! 

-Stephanie

Vacation 2011–Rawah Wilderness

Disconnecting, unplugging, getting lost, taking a moment…however you want to word it, vacations always give me a chance to reboot.  Last summer, our vacation caused me to reboot so much that Dustin and I moved 700 miles to Colorado and completely changed the course of our lives.  This year, nothing quite that life changing occurred, but all of us did get a chance to disconnect, yet reconnect.

Dustin and I love Colorado, but sometimes it is a lonely place.  Making friends as you get older seems to require a lot of effort.  Our closest friends from KC require no effort, and were such a sight for sore eyes when they pulled in the drive two Fridays ago.  I’ve been looking forward to their visit for months.  This year, they even brought Honey (their dog).  I was excited to see her too!  The dogs hung out, the four of us caught up, drank some beer and ate pizza.  Last Friday night we grilled and stayed up late laughing and chatting.  It was like nothing had changed and we were sitting in Missouri.  It is nights like these that I miss the most. 

Since this was Brooke and Matt’s vacation, we didn’t just sit around Fort Collins.  We went and played in the mountains, all the while urging Brooke and Matt to make the same move we did.  Sunday, we drove up Poudre Canyon, and found a place to lie our heads at Aspenglen Campground.  Nestled next to Joe Wright Creek, the sound of the highway is drowned by the roar of the water.  Mosquitoes were held at bay, and the clouds took a night off to reveal a sparkling sky.  It was incredible to watch the stars twinkle.  It is funny how a starry sky lets you ponder all possibilities.   

Monday through Thursday we spent in the Rawah Wilderness, and Friday we spent in RMNP.  Believe what you read, mosquitoes in Rawah are horrendous and very thirsty.  Brooke, Matt and I had no fewer than 30 bites – that was wearing insect repellent.  Mother Nature seems to require a bit of payment for her beautiful places, and if I had to sacrifice a little blood to revel in Rawah’s beauty, I happily obliged.

Monday we got a late start, and didn’t make it all the way to the lakes.  We settled into the only dry ground we could find, and made camp for the night.  We hoped for no rain since a little stream flowed right by the door of the tent.  It wasn’t the most ideal spot, but Brooke and Matt’s lungs needed a break, not to mention Honey was pooped!  We stopped one time for a quick break, and Honey girl didn’t want to put back on her dog pack.  She was spent.  It was interesting to notice the difference in Dustin and I’s lung capacity and tolerance for the altitude compared to last year.  We really felt the effects of altitude on our lungs climbing Mt. Sopris, but this time the altitude didn’t seem to bother us as much. 

Rain settled in on Tuesday and we spent most of the day under the two sportsman’s tarps.  Matt and Dustin actually devised quite a sturdy shelter out of the rain, and it proved most useful for our days in Rawah.

The places to explore in the wilderness are numerous.  Just in the small area we inhabited, we could venture to six lakes, and two more lakes were just over the ridge.  It was an ideal setting for a base camp while taking day hikes.  I could have spent many more days just exploring.  Dustin and I took Wednesday morning to poke around and see what we could.  We took in two more lakes, one which was still 90% frozen.  That particular unnamed lake rested at 11,500 feet.  The amount of snow still in the high country was remarkable.  Not all of the snow will make it into the drainages this year…

Wildflowers were in full bloom, painting the landscape in vibrant colors of purple, pink, red and yellow.  Marmots said hello quite often, bear scat and paw prints littered the ridge, and signs of elk were everywhere where the lush vegetation grew with a fury; the growing season will be quite short this year for plant and animal species alike. 

The fishing - well I can say it was worth carrying the extra weight of fishing gear.  We spent most of Wednesday afternoon and evening, catching brookie after brookie, even though these lakes were supposed to contain greenbacks.  Unfortunately, it looks like the brook trout infiltrated and again outcompeted the greenback.  Disappointing from a a native trout restoration perspective, but great fun from a fishing perspective.  From Dustin and I’s experience, it seems brookies are much less finicky…and once you catch one, they just seem to keep coming.  I like that kind of fishing!

Rawah had its fair share of challenges in store for us; we had three hairy river crossings, several snowfields, and threatening weather.  Hikes that normally are day hikes, are much trickier considering the high water and lingering snow.  Snow melted rapidly during the day, leading to higher creeks and rivers in the morning – keep that in mind if you plan to travel to Rawah this week.

The hike down always goes faster than the hike up, but I am starting to discover I like the climb rather than the descent.  Hiking down the mountain takes a toll on the body – it hurts.  Climbing the mountain doesn’t hurt like that!  With that said, the trail was rather moderate.  The wet conditions made it trickier than normal, but elevation gains are rather well spaced, and we only went through a few switchbacks.  Pack animals are allowed, and the trail suffers from that.  Deep ruts in the trail caused water to flow in some parts like a creek.  Not that I have anything against pack animals, it is just that you can tell the trails where they are allowed.  Their footprints make a much bigger footprint than ours…

Friday in RMNP, we traveled from the East side of the park to the West side of the park.  The beetle kill on the west side is awful.  Grand Lake hardly has a live tree standing.  We did see where the park service has treated several areas with insecticide to help stop the beetle.  This was Matt’s first time to the park, and I don’t think he was disappointed. We came back to FoCo, grilled and spent the last few hours together enjoying one another’s company.  Saturday morning came too soon, and it was hard to watch our friends pull out of the drive.  We didn’t want them to leave.  I am counting down the days until we can all sit around and shoot the breeze again.  Thanks guys for coming to visit! 

-Stephanie