Tuesday, February 17, 2009

Pale Morning Dun

The anatomy of a shark forces it to live in a perpetual state of motion. Its survival requires forcing water through its gills by continually swimming. If a shark stops moving, it suffocates and dies. I pondered this while stuck up in a hostel for three days. Over the past two-plus months, moving from place to place has been so fundamental to day´s events that it has become a psychological necessity. Lying there in bed, soaking up the rest my body needed to recover, I was itching to get back on the road like an addict to dope.

Travel completely alters one´s relationship with time. Despite functioning on intervals of bus schedules and check-out times, I do not wear a watch. My only gauge on time beyond the rising and setting of the sun, is two miniature calendars that I tapped to the Altoid´s box holding my money and creditcards. Just as one habitually glances at their wrist watch, I pull out that box and equate the remaining days I have to squeeze in the last of my destinations. Days, not hours, are all that matter. Checking off those three days at the hostel pained me. With February dwindling to a close, leaving me with just over a month, I am still in Patagonia. Over and over I failed to leave this intoxicating region- its always one more hike, one more river.

With my stomach restored to manageable state, I boarded a bus back to San Junin for one last river. I met Chris at the same family infested camp ground as a week prior. ¨You made it,¨ he called over walking into the grounds. ¨Was there any doubt?¨ The images of me curled in a sweaty ball of sickness flashed across my mind. ¨Yea I guess there was a little doubt.¨

We had one more day to fish Rio Chimihuine before Chris needed to catch a bus back to Buenos Aires. Hiking an hour out of town, we met the river some 20 kilometers below the lake that fed Chimihuine. After wading up stream a bit, we came to a section of the river where brush broke through the surface and cast never ending current lines down stream. With the water flowing down shallows and dumping into a deep aquamarine pool, I just knew there were some big trout sitting on the bottom waiting for the sun to set.

I zeroed into a spot across shore, about two feet off the bank. A little back eddie was hidden behind a series of branches that extended like a hand warding me off. I positioned myself ten feet diagonally down stream. Casting side arm, I double hauled into the wind. It took a number adjustments to find the perfect cast for the spot. Side arm, I false cast till I had the required distance. Then on my last forward cast, I stopped my rod tip just before where I wanted the fly to go. After the line unrolled parallel to the water, the fly snapped around behind the brush. Unable to mend, I had about a three second window before my fly began to drag. I peppered this spot with a myriad of flies, convinced there was a fish there. Finally, with the sun deep behind the mountains and the grey of the early night fading into black, I tied on the smallest fly I had in my box. A Pale Morning Dun. The fly hit, then crunch. I shrieked, and set the hook. The fish shot downstream towards the refuge of heavy current and deep brush. Chasing my fish, I jumped over a jungle gym of fallen limbs submerged before me- the trout jumped simultaneously. Running down to me, Chris shouted¨Where´s your camera?¨ Trying to undue the jinx Chris may have inadvertently set on me, I responded, ¨Don´t say camera.¨

Striping the fish in, line was everywhere. I knew if he went on another run I would probably lose him. So I muscled him in, banking on the strength of my knots. I plunged my hand in, and was fortunate to get a perfect grip on him. It was a beautiful rainbow trout streaked blood red.
Standing there, splitting the current, I raised my fish for a photo. It was not the biggest fish I had caught. It wasn´t a brown, and we didn´t even get a good picture of it. But I knew then as I do now, that that moment would live forever in my Patagonian dreams.

NOTE TO FAMILY: I am in Pucon Chile. I am planning on doing a three day hike here. I am still in the midst of gathering information about it, so I will give you a call when I have more information. Love you!

3 comments:

  1. Saturday is my birthday. Which means a year ago Saturday was the America Party.

    Sounds like you got your health back. NOW KICK INTO 3RD GEAR FOR THE LAST MONTH!

    -K. AID.

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  2. Rob, Looks like kool-aid beat me to itthis time! It sounds like you are back in the game. I had all of my known medical advisors on the phone line {Toney' who lives down the street a nurse practishoner'a cornel in the army reserves, who spent last year in a m.a.s.h. tent in Irack as well as a year in central america,Bernadette Sculley who was vacationing up in Canon Mt. She is an R.N. who works at Harvard in a clinic that is soley devoted in getting it's traveling staff and students ready for foreign destinations as well as the M.D. at harvard health . All advice was the same and was in agreement with what I told you. Let me know the date that I can make an appointment for you to have a complete physcial it takes a long time to get one

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  3. [cont.] The secretary at harvard health said "It looks like a long time since we've seen him Mom. She probly thought you were just a little boy since I was calling Dr. Slater] but I think it is imperitive to get a stool anylis to make sure you do not have a parsite as you can also passs it on to others as well as cause you problems in the future..Love Mom xx

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