Fishing...finally

 Saturday night while I was at my great uncle's 75th birthday party, my sister and brother each sent me a text.  Very similar. "Dad wants to know if you are going fishing with him tomorrow.  You should call him."

There are very few things my Dad likes less than telephones.  But I called him back and during the shortest conversation in history we planned to go fishing on Sunday.

I haven't been feeling well all weekend.  A summer cold kind of thing that really just makes me tired but I packed up the gear and met Dad for a day on the pond.   The spot we like the best is about an hour and a half drive and at about 9000 feet.  We passed a lot of snow up in those mountains.  Thankfully the road to our little pond was open and there was no snow in sight, except at the higher peaks.  We donned our waders, hopped in our float tubes and sat out on the water for a few hours.  The fishing was terrible.  I had a couple nibbles and the one that I actually caught found it's way off the hook about 5 feet from my little tube. 

Although the fishing was terrible.  The day was not.  While out in the tube, I let my line dangle in the water while I napped, or took in the gorgeous scenery.  With the fishing so slow, I probably could have read a book.  I normally keep one in the tackle box or the pocket on the tube but left it home this time.

I don't have pictures of the fishing but I do have some of the pond.  Hopefully in a month or so, we can spend a weekend camping, 4 wheeling, and fishing up there.

Potter's Pond

Dad taking a picture of the pond.