So my dad came out a couple of weeks ago and we had a great time. My dad and I, and Brent and his dad, Don, drove to Many Glacier in the Northeast corner of the U.S. side of Glacier National Park, just shy of the Canadian border. We took the kayaks, Don's motor home, lots of fishing gear, food and set up a great camp. The weather cooperated fully and we had two absolutely gorgeous days and nights. But, alas, no luck fishing.
Fishing with Brent can be an experience that you wonder how in the hell you let yourself get into. The last time I went fishing with Brent it was 20 degrees farenheit, there was a foot and a half of snow on the ground, 8 inches of it fresh and we had to chain up to get the boat to the boat dock. There was only one reason I got in that sad looking vessel they were calling a boat that day and it was that I knew I would be warmer on the boat than in the truck. In other words, I would be warmer longer before I freakin' froze to death!
It was great visiting with the dads, watching mountain goats on the gigantic piece of rock called a mountain that loomed over our camp. My dad even gave me something before he left: a cold. Thanks, dad. I've been sick for a week but am feeling better and trust he is, too.
Today is the most beautiful fall day you could ever want to see. It's going to be warm and breezy and I'm going to immerse myself fully in it. There are gardening chores to be done. There is lemon ginseng green tea with honey to be drunk.