As I’ve been reflecting so much on what has been happening around me.154 years ago, my truck still sits and does not run. Despite what I do and throw at it, there always seems to one more possibility, one more part to replace.
If only I had to worry only about rowing.
Or maybe even just a carburetor and not injection. No sensors, no computer; just air, fuel, and spark. Those were the days.
I work on a section of river that is well known to fly fishermen, here in the United States as well as in the world. The Green River is a destination that people save their vacation days for, fly from great distances to, and dream wild dreams about. The fishing here can be incredible. Clear waters, relatively easy access, and big fish.
This has not always been so.
154 years ago, Major John Westley Powell passed through this canyon as part of his historic expedition down the Green and Colorado rivers and through the Grand Canyon.
154 years ago, today to be exact.
The day began at Ashley Falls which lies under the waters of Flaming Gorge Reservoir, a few miles upstream of the current dam. And ended at Little Hole just over 7 miles downstream. It’s all written in the journals and history books.
As a very interested party to that great expedition, I am acutely aware that I am were they once were. I can only imagine that much of the river (besides the reservoir) looks the same as it did then. I can walk along the banks.and see almost the same thing they would have seen.
I rode from the dam to Little Hole several times today moving trailers. Each time looking at the waters and wishing I could see the four boats floating by. I could in my head but there was more.
Nothing physical happened. But I felt something, I felt a part of it. I made myself aware of the date, the place, and the circumstances; and history brushed against me, touched me.
I feel like i finally caught up to Major Powell and the 9 brave men that floated by with him.
Starting tomorrow, the ghosts of the past will be floating through the B and C sections of the river. I will also be looking for them again.
Today marks two months since I arrived in Dutch John, Utah. What have I accomplished?
On the checklist of tasks accomplished, I’m a little behind. I am working on my book writing and feel good as of late but I had hoped to be further along. I finished a chapter that will be the building block.of the rest of the story. I feel good about that. I have plenty of time to get the major part of this book done. So, good.
I have failed on a daily blog. But here I am again. That’s good. So, good.
I haven’t fished as much as I would have liked. Some of that has to do with the truck. Hopefully this weekend this is remedied. So ok, but could be better.
I have forgotten about my previous job’s stress and uselessness. I have concerns here workwise, but not like before. Those 30 years are gone and not missed. Whew! Monkey removed from back. Happiness is in the wheelhouse daily. Very good!
Two months have changed my life’s trajectory. What lies in the next months to come? Let’s see!
My truck and I have not come to terms yet. It remains on strike and I have not yet figured out what it needs to be a form of transportation once again. So I walk.
It’s a 30 minute walk of mostly flat walking. Just one hill really. But it’s mostly overland walking and no roads, or at least recently used roads.
Yesterday, I encountered both antelope and deer. Both seemed really confused by a human walking amongst them.
I also encountered an elk. Kind of.
It’s been interesting and I hope weight losing at the same time.
Tomorrow calls for rain. Could be even more interesting.
What is funny, is how confused humans are that I really don’t mind walking. I’ve enjoyed it so much that when my truck is working again, I think I might still walk. We’ll see.
Hey kids!
It’s hard to understand how a month slips by, but it has. I’m still in Dutch John but some things have changed.
For one, the weather has greatly improved. We are actually deep into the spring and threatening to go into the summer. The snow pack is somewhere around 50% melted and we still have a lot of run off to deal with, but it’s about to be on the down hill side of things.
I have left my paved and civilized campsite and moved up into the dispersed camp site area. I have a beautiful spot that over looks the lake. It is dirt roads in and no services available. I would not have survived earlier in this season up here, but for now and for the summer; it is ideal.
Things have been unsettled since I’ve been here. Somethings I’ll explain as things develop but currently I am again without my truck. It has decided it no longer wants to drive back and forth on these bumpy, dusty roads. Hopefully we will come to terms and reconcil this little difference of opinions.
The season is just about to get rocking. Labor day weekend is upon us. With two months already spent here, I think the time is going to go quick. I hope I can keep all up to date with a more regular schedule of posts.
One important item to note today is the date itself. It is May 24th. 154 years ago, John Westley Powell began his expedition down this river on which I find myself. He and 9 others (Sumner, W. Powell, Bradley, O. Howland, S. Howland, Dunn, Goodman, Hall, and Hawkins) braved the unknown and floated out of Green River, Wyoming.
154 years ago, three of them recorded the day’s events as the sun went down. Much like I am doing today but electronically. They were sitting on a bank under cottonwood. I am in my trailer, on a hill side, amongst the juniper.
If they had not, the details of their journey would have been lost. Likewise for me.
They had no idea who would take an interest in the future. Neither do I. Maybe I’ll have something of interest for someone 154 years from now. Maybe even sooner.
I just need to write, and let it all fall where it does.
I wonder how big Wyoming would be if it didn’t blow half of itself away every other day?
Another night of rocking and rolling and tucking down deep in the covers.
PS- I know I’m still in Utah, but here on the northern side of the Uinta Mountains, we adhere to Wyoming weather mandates.
Last night was so nice. The wind had stopped and it was actually warm after the sun went down, relatively speaking.
I nestled down in bed, without the need of my knitted cap, and slept peacefully and comfortable. Then came today.
The wind has come and brought with it wind and cold. Tonight as I write it is 33° with the wind making it feel like 22. It has just started. It will not be much warmer for the next couple of days either.
Assuming that winter is done in April is a dangerous assumption, especially in these parts.
Tonight all the quilts go back on the bed and I won’t be emerging back out of them until sun up.
Sleeping-in is not that bad of a solution, come to think of it.
Remember when taxes were due on April 15th every year. Now you never know what day it will be. This year it’s tomorrow, April 18th.
I don’t know what determines the date, or who picks the deadline. But the 18th and a Tuesday just seems random.
Maybe it’s like Easter and depends on the equinox and full moons or ground hogs finally able to see their accountants. I don’t know but I needed the extra couple of days this year.
I actually got them done today. A full day early. I haven’t got word about them being approved yet but I gave myself an extra day.
I’m getting soft in my old age. My younger procrastinating self would be ashamed.
So maybe I was putting too much pressure on myself for today.
The trip was fine, and very fun. Not a lot of fish were caught as the river is being extremely tough right now. We had lunch, shared lots of laughs, and enjoyed a truely beautiful day on the river.
It felt good just to lazy down the river and soak up as much sun as possible
And no one really even mentioned how bad my cast was.
Maybe I should relax more often about such things.
Tomorrow is a big day for me. I am nervous and overjoyed at the same time.
It is our company’s Family Float. This is where the entire (participating) company is loading into drift boats and fishing together on the river.
My skills are not what they used to be and they were lacking when they were at the top of my game. The others are guides and accomplished flyfishers. This is where everyone sees and knows whether you’re a stud or a dud.
This could be one of the most fun days of my life, a moment I had always hoped for.
On the other hand, I could be the biggest buffoon of the company; laughed at and ridiculed for years.
I am fearful of my fate.
Mike M Jensen 