Cleared to climb UNLIMITED...

Dad passed away this afternoon, here at home, very peacefully. He lead a good long life. He was a farmer who hunted and fished and golfed all over the West, but his greatest joy was to kick the tires and light the fires in a fighter jet. 

Love You, Dad.

 

Hazards aplenty...

Dad flew home from his successful trout fishing adventure in Ideeho, Monday. 

Just down the hill from my brother's house, is a nice golf course, that no one seems to play. 
 

I asked Dad if he played the course while he was there, "No, I was there to fish. Besides, there are always herds of elk on it."

Dad was an avid golfer til a couple years ago when his legs started to fail him.  He has tried a couple of times since I moved up, but it is really not that doable, as he can't stand unaided, much less swing. I have tried holding him up, but he really can't swing like he wants to, and his balance is thrown off.
Yesterday he said, "Let's go play nine holes tomorrow. We can rent a cart." 
Tomorrow became today. The weather was cold, but there was a clear blue sky, and we are ringed on three sides by snow covered Mt Shasta, Mt Lassen, & Yolla Bolly. A beautiful day to be outside.
We went to the nine hole course on the edge of town. 

  
I got a cart, loaded up our golf bags, and a corona with lime wedge for me (Dad didn't want anything). Stuck the score card on the steering wheel and away we went. It was mid week, we have had rain daily until today, so there was only a couple other people on the course.
First hole, I talked Dad into going first, he barely made it to the tee, using both drivers as walking sticks, and my holding him steady.  He teed up, took a couple practice swings, and then swung, only driving the ball a short distance. He started to fall from his momentum and I grabbed him to keep him from going down. He promptly elbowed me in the nose. He said he was done, this wasn't going to work, but he really wanted me to play, and he would coach from the cart.  I felt so sorry for him, it has to be terribly frustrating to mentally be so sharp, and physically not able to do the things he used to do with ease.
I played four more holes, and then we ran out of daylight.
Dad's a good coach, and my game got a little better with his tutoring. I did miraculously manage to find the water hazards a couple of times. 

I walked the course while Dad drove the (beer) cart. By the time I finished my beer I had gotten my driver under control, and the walking was great.
On the way home I realized, for all the years mom and Dad played nearly every course on the west coast, they never asked me to play with them. Most likely because I was busy working, pushing cows, riding horses, and raising kids.
The things I like best about golf: you are outside, on green grass, and usually near water.
Dad says we are going to start golfing weekly. Now he's a crafty ol cuss, so there are undoubtedly hazards aplenty...

Coming in Hot..

  

My youngest granddaughter, Miss B, (who has CP) has a new ride! Thanks to the generosity of family and friends, and the expertise of Recumbent PDX, in Portland. My Sean said that thing really hauls and that she has crashed once already, from coming in too Hot. She and the bike are fine. She should get many years of good use out of it. Yay, Miss B!

Dad and Ol Ugly are on the road to Ideeho to go Salmon fishing with my brother.  Buzz and his wife drove down to pick them up Tuesday.  Hopefully, Dad will catch some salmon from Ol Ugly, and have a great Thanksgiving with that part of the family. 

I told Dad it might be wise to have the local padre up there bless that damn boat, before they put in, just to be on the safe side.

This is the first time I have not had Dad around other than a day or two in the last three years.  Willie and I  miss that ol coot already. No one needing this or that or ringing his Donger* for his daily coffee milkshake. It is feeling strange.

 *Donger (a cowbell with a handle)

  

 made by this Ideeho nephew.

In other news:

 I've renewed my CCW permit for another two years. That means I took the classes, got recertified, got interviewed by the detective, and paid all the outrageous class, city and state fees.  I agree with the necessity of vetting, I don't agree with the frequency, or the cost.

 My granddaughter Ali has invited me to be part of the party when she picks out her wedding dress this week. I am really looking forward to seeing the girls and taking part.

A cousin and I are going to hit the range for some trap time, as we both have new boomsticks.  He has moved back to Cali from Texas to take care of his dad.

I have been in Warrior Granny Yoga, with the other ol ladies, for a while now. And just the other day at the end of a long grueling circuit session, one lady (retired school teacher) laughingly said to me... "you are like the second grader that needs to be seated right next to the teacher, because she never knows what you are going to do next!"  I will take that as a  compliment to my enthusiasm for life, and coming in Hot...

   

Simple is good...

We started on the Simple trip with Dad saying, "I really enjoy these trips. You're so relaxing to travel with Sis".  This as he is hanging on for dear life to the OS handle above his door.

First day, we made it to Bend, OR in good time to meet up with brother & SIL and a cousin from Portlandia. Next day, while brother took Dad to Ideeho, I was off to Sisters, OR to take part in the Cowman's family's reunion.

Cold Springs Resort, Camp Sherman, OR

Had an awesome time at the reunion, we were only missing a SIL, a nephew, a niece, and the corpsman. Fifty three of us out in the open & under canopies as it rained off and on.   On arrival there was a moment of shear terror for the kids, when they found out...there was no cell service in the area.  They soon adjusted, and only occasionally checked their phones to see if the Gods might have provided service while they weren't looking.  
 A little rain didn't dampen the spirits of our crew at all. 

half of my crew:  ccw:  me, Lauren, Ali, Tyler, Marymine, Colt

We went on expeditions, played washers, fly fished, cooked, ate, drank, cuddled the littles, told stories, and had huge bonfires!

After the reunion, I drove to Ontario, OR to meet up with brother and pickup Dad. Then I drove us on to Riggins, Ideeho. We spent a night there on the Salmon River, and the next morn on to Kamiah ID to visit an old friend of Dad's. 

Camas Prairie, Idaho     sunlight on rapeseed field

Here is where I told Dad that if we looped West instead of East, one of my brother-in-laws (Don) had said he would gladly meet us at their river house on the Columbia and take us fishing, if Dad would like that. It took Dad about a 1/2 second to say, "What are you waiting for, call & tell him we are on our way to the river house!" I drove another 5 hours to make that date. We spent the night with my BIL and were on the water fishing early the next morning. 

Dad fishing on the Columbia River

After a morning of fishing, we caught a bunch of bass, no salmon, we headed to my Sean's in Vancouver, WA. Spent the night in his new house, and the next morning I drove the eight hours home. Wouldn't have taken me that long but, I stopped to see Jolee at Del Rio Vineyards in Gold Hill, OR and Dad wanted to stop and see friends in Mt Shasta.

Mt Shasta, Calif.  close to home

A Simple 2,200 mile loop under our belts, and we are home.  Most importantly Dad had a great time, and says his hand is getting better after the cramping from holding on to the OS handle above his door.

 

Well Spit...

 I seem to collect rocks and feathers... does that mean I'm flighty but grounded?

Spent yesterday on the river chasing salmon with Dad and (his friend) D. I get very leery about the chances of a successful outing when the only trailers at the ramp are gov guys. I won't get into the prelaunch: dead battery, the travel to D's house to get another, the fact that D's place needs to be dozed...

  Drove ol Ugly up and down all the hot spots. The river is really low, which means you have to go really really fast to plane over the gravel bars. Yee Haw!

recent catch on SacRiverGuide.com boat

  

Dad was frustrated that he was not even getting a bump, with salmon jumping all around us, D didn't seem to care.  Though D wasn't real happy to have to get in the river with me, to help lift the motor out of the water to unplug the weeds from the intake, twice. 

Dad is really pushing it lately! Dad, D, and I were talking about shotguns and bird hunting while waiting for a damn salmon to jump into ol Ugly, when Dad says to D, "If you'll take Brig pheasant hunting down at the range, I'll pay for all the birds."  Which embarrassed the heck out of me, and I think D as well...

D stuttered... "aaah sure, I aaah can take her, I guess!"   Really, what could the poor man say, he's in Dad's boat, in the middle of the river, with me at the helm.  Dad is getting way too into his scheming, I have no interest in D, and I suspect D feels the same about me.  He knows Trouble when he sees it.

My granddaughter, Lauren, played HS volleyball up here yesterday evening. So I got to see her and Marymine. Yeah!  Lauren, calls'm as she sees'm, is a really good player, and a hoot to boot.

part of the WINNING team, Lauren on the R

Salmon fishing part 5...

I went to the local go to guys last week and said "Please teach me what I need to know about fishing for salmon. My Dad is 90 and really needs to catch one."  A large chunk of change later I had all the tools and some of the knowledge.  

Dad and I went out in old Ugly again Monday. She is home from the boat hospital, finally. They didn't hookup the fish/depth finder, but Dad said we didn't need it cause he didn't think it worked right anyway.  Well when the river is this low it's sorta nice to know when you are going to hit a gravel bar.  Thankfully the river is clear so you can see the bottom and sorta gauge depth from that.

Jim, a girlfriend's guy went with us.  He was practically raised on the river, so was a lot of help.  Taught me a bunch of tactics for boondoggling, and drifting, and handling ol Ugly.

 

Jim perfecting the art of the birds nest...

We didn't catch anything, but Dad got some good bumps.  He was fishing with roe and Jim was using a sardine wrapped flat fish. We had salmon jumping around us, and could see them swimming, so it wasn't like there were no fish.

 

Dad fishing....

Dad went again today and took a friend of his, D. I couldn't go as I had a conference call coming from the doctors. 

They didn't catch anything, but had a good time according to Dad. 

Later in the evening Dad was raving about what nice a guy D is and how D kept saying he wished I could have come with them.  I swear alarms went off in my head.  Next thing I know Dad says, "Oh, by the way he wants to date you."  "He said he would see you tomorrow night at the poker game here."  Date! I haven't been on a date in years, well except for the short kilted guy in the shiny shirt...sigh... 

 

Water hazzard...

How hard can it be... Five times I have gone fishing with Dad, and I forget to say the "please God let Dad catch a damn fish" prayer before we get started. Maybe I should leave out the damn part.

 

C had returned from new squirrel vetting in DC and a vacation with the wife, so he came along. Turns out he is a great deal more into first class accommodations than we can provide.

We launched and I was driving down river when the motor started sounding strange, and then died, dead.  While C was tinkering with the motor, with Dad giving directions, the viking was paddling for a gravel riffle near shore against a 6 mph current.

A blown fuse, which was replaced with the emergency fuse, which promptly blew. Short somewhere! C decides he will walk out to a road, call a friend for a ride back to the boat dock and send someone to get us.

I get Dad situated and as shaded as possible, while holding the boat in place. A couple of hours of standing in knee deep cold water was doable.  I spent the time listening to Dad's tales, and turning over rocks to see what creatures there were, found my first leach, some hellgrammites, and assorted other creatures I did not know. Watched salmon jump and a falcon hunt across the river from us. He was amazing to watch, but having no luck either.

A guide boat came by and said to call the sheriff's dept, and they would send someone to tow us back up river to the dock. Hello, why didn't we think to do that. I got on my cell and called the sheriff's dept. and a short time later the Sgt shows up with their boat, and tows us back to the dock.  The Sgt was great, as it was not an easy thing to keep his boat in position and to get the tow line tied off from our boat in that current.  

Against Dad's directive, I had untied the anchor from the line before hand. It would not have been nice to put a ding in the sheriff's boat or the Sgt. by throwing the line with the 20# anchor still attached.

C had caught a ride with friends, and met us at the dock.  We put ol ugly back on the trailer and headed home. Ol ugly is now resting comfortably in the boat hospital getting a complete overhaul.

As for C, he does not appear anxious to go with us next time, geez, where is his sense of adventure... 

Adventures with Dad...

Not even a glass of wine, candles, and bubble bath can take away from the on going adventures in fishing with Dad.

He was bound and determined to be on the river salmon fishing yesterday.  With sardine wraps on the flat fish lures done, gas in the fuel tanks, battery charged and his one beer in the cooler with my water bottle, off we went. Got on the water and hauled ass down river to a spot he heard was hot. Of course everyone else had heard it was a hot spot too, so we were knee deep in boats of all shapes and sizes.  Dad's boat is so old & ugly everyone assumes we know what the hell we are doing. If they only knew, the probability of the tall white haired Viking driving the jet boat cutting their lines as she zooms by is higher than they think. 

Dad struggling to put the lures on as we are speeding down river, casts out and nearly goes over board. He hollers at me to put my line in and slow troll back up river.  "Nope, you fish, I'll handle the boat."  There are other boats to dodge, as well as debris in a fast current.  The ol bastard smiles and says "Ok, I'll just put your line in for you!" 

After four hours of not one single bite, and watching the other guys pull in salmon and steelhead Dad says, "let's take'r in Sis, there aren't any fish here."  

Back at the dock, we put her on the trailer, tighten down the gear, and Dad speeds out of the launch site, only to slam on the brakes mere inches from the big bump going out the gate. As I'm pealing myself off the dashboard, I remind him that it would be nice if next time he gave a bit of a warning before he does that.

So there we are traveling North at speed on I5 to get to our off ramp when there is a Boom, Crunch, Bang!  "Dad, pull off on the shoulder, and turn on your flashers, I think we blew a tire on the trailer."  "What?"  I repeat myself, and he gets her off into the breakdown lane.  He starts to try to get out of the car and take a look see.  Traffic is heavy and fast.  "Oh Hell No, stay in the car!"  I get out on the passenger side, yep the whole tire/rim has come off the single axle trailer.  Get back in, still telling Dad to stay put, call the tow company and get that started.  Tow shows up and says he can't fix it and will have to put it on the truck and take it home for us.  Fine, let's gett'r done. Ol Ugly is back home now, parked, and waiting for a new axle and a few other repairs.

Oh, how could I have forgotten to tell you about the highway patrolman that came and talked to us, went in search of our wayward tire, came and talked to us, expedited the tow, came and talked to us, and used his flashers to slow up traffic til we could get off the freeway.  Well, he came and talked to us because Dad kept chatting him up, asking him questions, complementing him on his hat! All the while I'm staring at Dad with a "What Are You Doing Look?". When the patrolman went back to his truck for the last time... Dad turns to me, cocks a wizened eyebrow and says, "Nice looking man, about your age..."  

Dad's Mission...

  A small plea for prayers.

Dad is on a mission...

He is either trying to do me in or find me a boyfriend.  He is being aided by mother, or possibly it was a plan started by her, I don't know which. I do know they are working it. 

Every evening as I'm feeding mother dinner she asks me, "Have you got a boyfriend yet?" As I'm changing her she says, "Your still here, I thought you would have a boyfriend by now!" Whereupon she looks at Dad and gives him a cackling laugh.

As for Dad...

First, he insisted that I take him golfing, where he bragged up my nonexistent playing abilities to everyone male.  When that produced no action he claimed he wasn't going to golf anymore due to weakness in his legs.

Next, he arranged for us to go trap shooting with the guys. The guys were kind (or desperate) enough to include us. I can shoot shotguns, so that didn't end well.

Next, he bought the fishing boat, and after teaching me how to pack the wheel bearings on the trailer (a seemingly necessary skill) he put me driving the boat up and down the river. He has done a lot of trolling for fish & other things, but no bites.

Now, he has wrangled his way into the good graces of a friend of a friend with a small plane. Some of the first words out of his mouth to the pilot were, "I want to teach Sis to fly, can I borrow your plane."  

"Sure, no problem, just pass the flight physical and pay for the fuel."

This was news to me, I love flying but don't think I'm pilot material. Anyway, I would have chosen helos over fixed wing. 

I didn't want to hurt Dad's feelings, so I figured I'd let the flight physical take this off the table.  I took him up North for his flight physical this morning.  Even with his 4point cane he was stepp'n pretty good coming out of the doc's office.  

"Sis, Doc was great, he graduated flight school the same year I did!" (say what, that makes Doc 90 years old, too!)  "Said I passed, just need a dispensation for my heart surgery in 2000."  

Oh My God! 

I think it's time to suggest they might have better luck with cooking school.

Hooked...

YeeHaw... the river god smiled on us this morning.

Understand that I have not been on this part of the river in ten years, I have never driven this boat, with this jet before, and the river she changes... often. With that in mind, and the fact that Dad at 90 can't move too well or fast...  

We put in just fine.  Dad put us in the middle of the river and said,  "Here Sis, (he calls me that among other things) take her down to the Buzzard Hole."

I promptly said, "Oh Hell No, we have to go thru China Rapids to get there. You drive down so I can get a bit of a read on the river and the boat. I'll do it after that."

And away we went as he pushed her to full throttle... During the trip down river there really wasn't much time to be gawking at the flora & fauna as what I had told Dad was true. China Rapids is a piece of the river that runs thru a long lava chute, full of rough water, shred you lava rocks, snags, and whirlpools.

We had gone down river to a promising looking riffle when Dad said, "Lets start fishing."

"Dad how about..You fish an I'll handle the boat."

"We can both fish if I throw out the anchor," he said as he started to try to get to the anchor. That was when I had a vision, of him following the anchor into the river, it was not comforting.

"aah you fish, I'll keep the boat in position and just enjoy being on the water." 

Dad proceeded to cast, and cast, and cast, and snag the catch pole darn near every time. OMG, I had to bite my lip, to keep from laughing.  "ah Dad, how about I put that catch pole down so you can have a clear field?"

"Good idea, Sis". 

Dad didn't catch anything, but he was ok with that. He got to use all the poles, a truck load of lures, and even came back and messed with the fish finder. He called it good, so I took us back up river. Just before China Rapids, Dad yells back, "Full throttle thru the rapids, and whirlpools. If you back off its all she wrote!"  Comforting thought Dad.  I put her in full throttle and away we went.  Was doing just fine, til Dad's honking big lure came unhooked from the line guide and flew right in front of my face. As I was brushing it out of the way, my thumb caught the hook. No big deal, but you know how a finger stick bleeds. Now I'm steering with one hand, as I needed to keep pressure and elevation on the damn thumb. Managed to make it thru the chute just fine, stopped the bleed, and away we traveled up river to the dock. Loaded it all up, and we were home before the home help was due to leave.

The river here is amazingly beautiful. It's constantly changing and there is lots to see. I saw critters, birds, rock formations, even a couple of cowboys watering their horses and dogs. 

pic by Eric Leslie

Go Fish...

Dad and I are gone steelhead fishing...*

I will try to remember to take pics, but when we're fish'n... we fish!

*Well damn, here we are back home at 11AM, and all we did was get the trailer wet. Got to the launch ramp, unhooked the boat from the trailer, backed the trailer down the ramp, got Dad in the boat to drive it off the trailer, backed the trailer into the river... and the jet wouldn't start... dead battery! (Dad kinda forgot to put the battery on the charger last night, and I forgot to ask him if he had.) Hooked the boat back up to the trailer, pulled the whole shoot'n match out of the water, and drove to Dad's cousin's place to put the battery on his charger.  Had coffee with cousin, checked battery only 25% charged,  decided we didn't have enough time left to hit the water before we had to be back home, as the home helper staying with mom would be leaving soon. We will try again next week, and I'm hoping like heck Chipper will be back from the East, so he can go with us.

The good news: the weather is much cooler (90's), the wind is out of the South (not the suck you dry, howling N wind we have had), the river is much higher than it has been, and I found my lucky fish'n shades..

 All good signs for fish on!

     

Gone Fish'n...

Dad has spent a couple of weeks scouring online ads for a boat, a fishing boat.  When he found The boat he had me contact the owner via e-mail and Dad took it from there.  A few days later he proudly told me he had bought The boat.  

"How are you going to get it home", I asked.  "Oh I will arrange for my friend to take me down to pick it up" he said.  In short order a plan was made, and off they went. 

 "Where are you going to put it?" I asked.  

"I'll put it on the pad at my friend's place," he said.  "But for now we'll put it in the garage here, it needs a little work," he said. 

"What does a little work mean?" I asked.  

"Oh just this and that and a few other things," he said.

So they brought it home, and the very next day she was baptized in the waters of the  Sacramento river, along with Dad & his crony! 

Sacramento River

It seems Dad was driving and got hung on a gravel bar, instead of pouring the coal to her, and planing over it, he killed the throttle, sticking them on the gravel bar.  The crony hopped out to push them off, but soon realized Dad was going to have to get out as well.  Dad made it out, promptly lost his footing, and ended up setting down in six inches of water.  He and the crony were laughing so hard, they almost didn't get Dad back in the boat.

Now it is in a place of honor in the garage, supposedly so she doesn't get rained on.  In reality, so Dad can work on her late into the night.  She has been stripped of all her ratty ol carpet, and the rotted captain's seat tossed in the garbage.  Dad has given me a lengthy list nearly every evening of assorted "little things" to order on-line for her. 

He takes everyone who comes by out to the garage to admire his fish'n boat. So far, He and I seem to be the only ones that get it: he has a project to keep him busy, he wants to go fishing, and he's 90 years old so he needs to gett'r done now.

Dad working on his fish'n boat.

He said I could call him "Captain", I said I would call him "Ol Swampy".

He said Willie the Jack Russell, could go fish'n with us.  I said he could, but we had to call him "Gator Bait" when he was in the boat.

So, as soon as that ugly ol flat bottom boat is fixed up, Ol Swampy, Gator Bait, and I are gone fish'n.