The Wall - what is it good for?

My dog takes me out for a daily walk around my  neighborhood, she enjoys stopping at posts, fire hydrants and walls. We've noticed that there are more and more walls being erected around many new homes. I wondered if this is a new architectural style, owners philosophy, fear, or a new quality of life in an urban setting;  people behind their walls.

Wall have been around for centuries, we all know about the powerful and mighty "Great wall of China". Constructed to keep conquering armies at bay.

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Great Wall; Google

The infamous Berlin wall, below, imprisoned its citizens under penalty of death, in East Berlin for
decades.

Building  the Berlin wall imprisoning it's citizens. images.jpb

This is what's left of the infamous Berlin wall, a memorial. A testimonial of the cruelty of men towards his own brother. Tourist can peek through the wall towards East Berlin

The opprobrious wall at the US-Mexico border, below, divides but it can-not conquer. Vendor lean against it, stray dogs use it, young people etch their feeling on it. Hungry Mexicans wait for darkness to conquer it. Americans implement contingency plans, diagrams and night maneuvers to stop them.

Walls are made to keep people out, keep other people in. Keep pets safe, keep stray animals out. They also keep your things secured, away from prying eyes. Walls keep secrets from neighbors, also hide  nefarious actions. Walls are a sanctuary for their owners, keep traffic noise down and noisy mischievous  persons away. Antisocial personalities hide behind walls, wall are a canvas, gatherers of information.Walls also substantiate our fears.

A couple of block from my home this wall is being constructed, definitely, to keep people out. It clearly says
you... are not welcome.

This living, Eco-friendly, wall  is on the way to my sons school. It definitely says do not disturb, leave us alone, we don't want to know you. It's made to keep people in. We have never seen the residents.

This wall was constructed to keep adult toys safe. There is a fishing boat covered by a blue tarp, sports cars, motorcycles and bicycles. All covered against inclement weather and prying eyes.

I was thinking of putting up my own wall but... But I have nothing to hide, and no one to keep out.

Second Annual "Encuetro del Son Jarocho" in Santa Barbara, CA

                                                                              click on pictures for a larger view

My compadre Javier invited me to "el Encuetro del Son Jarocho", music festival in Santa Barbara last Saturday.  I chose a comfortable ethnic shirt so I could fit into the cultural celebration. What I didn't know, until I jumped into the suburban, that there were five students joining us on this trip.
Now, Javier is not only a friend of over thirty years, he also happens to be one of the best schools principals I  know. We were not only going to the festival but he had also made arrangements to take some of his present and previous students, now graduating from high school, to tour the University of Santa Barbara. This is a common occurrence, every Saturday he takes students to different colleges or Universities across California.

I was curious. I asked him, "why aren't college counselors in the high schools providing this type of experiences for their seniors". He replied, "porque estan tapados", they are clue-less. In my conversations with the students, I discovered that the college counselors don't even know who these students are, they had never being approached by them. No wonder the public is bashing schools, teachers and educators.

Mariana and Stacy Will be attending the UC system next school year. Alys and Louis in the near future

Javier has insured that  all of his elementary school student who started as members of Mariachi Cielo Nuevo, could continue studying music after they moved on to middle and high school. This takes place after school and on Saturdays. They also tutor younger students and serve as positive role models. This Principal always gives of his own time for his present and former students; visiting colleges, SAT preparation, at times paying for college applications, arranging for tutoring and counseling etc. Of course this doesn't make the newspapers nor is it recognized by school district administration. Javier needs no recognition,  he does this because he cares for his students, his love of music, his culture and profession.

Louis a former student at Middleton graduated from UCSB three weeks ago; guides the students through the campus

After the visit to UCSB and a brisk walk through this fine institution, with the pacific ocean at its' doorsteps displaying sumptuous vistas. I felt healthier, more knowledgeable and ready to enjoy the rhythmic, heart stumping sounds of the jaranas.

We drove through the glorious city of Santa Barbara admiring iconic samples of Spanish architecture. We arrived at the 'casa de armas' a unique example of early California folklore and traditions. Here in the open courtyard is where the "encuentro" would take place.

Courtesy of Libby Harding

Guests and performer stated arriving. The musical groups were getting ready putting the last touches on their instrument, insuring the perfect tune. The instrumentation for a typical group will include; 1st. Jarana a high sharp voice, 2nd. Jarana the melodic tenor voice, 3rd. Jarana or Leona deep sonorous voice, the mosquito a very small jaranita with a high shrill voice. Accompanying the jaranas were percussion instrument la caja, a wooden box, la quijada a donkey's jaw, the marimbol, harpa and of course la tarima, a wooden platform where member of the group or member from the audience are invited to participate in the dance.

Education is a major part of the encuentro, it is the perfect vehicle to learn about the music, heritage and culture of southern Mexico as evidence by the age of some Jarocho groups as the one pictured here.

Son Pantera one of the most diverse and talented groups was a great host.

An Encuentro is an experience of unique musical richness, melodic contours and rhythms accompanied by the poetic language of las decimas. The Santa Barbara's second annual Encuentro del Son Jarocho was a large colorful compendium of musical groups; student and professionals took center stage with fervor and passion for their music.
Inspired by the richness of the sounds dancers ascend the tarima and join the expanding, effusive acoustical sounds; emanating from the creative energy of feet keeping beat with the musicians.

This excellent group, Son Del Centro from Santa Ana was one of the favorites in Santa Barbara

As the festival approached it's passionate conclusion  the audience began easing towards the stage, the culmination was the fandango. All the musical groups play together in a jam session. While dancers  and audience begin dancing the fandango, sharing the tarima granting the footwork louder resonance. Judging from the participation between musicians and audience, this encuentro was a huge success. I will definitely be attending  next year with more students along with my compadre Javier.

photos: j. Miranda 

Fishing trip to Hemet Lake CA

The primordial customs and rituals of fishing reinforce our social behaviors and values. They often take us back to our childhood memories. When our group goes fishing everyone has a fish tale to share, this tall tales are familiar to everyone. Jorge, for instance, shared happy memories of his youth. "I  recall  going fishing for bass with my uncles in the damn Las Virgenes next our rancho Las Delicias in Chihuahua, Mexico. "My uncle Raul taught me to fish for bass... I brought up some huge fish in those days". Childhood memories such as Jorge's are familiar to all of us, they link us to relatives, friends, places and good eating. A good example was last weeks trip. I was busy, cleaning my garage. Jorge calls me inviting me and Bob to go fishing at Hemet lake in the scorching heat of Riverside County CA. Bob who is always ready to fish any time any place, as long as he has a good feeling, signed up to go. Of course, I prefer fishing over work any time.

After a quick trip to the tackle shop where we replenished our gear. Jorge took the lead and made all the arrangements. We drove to his vacation home in the open spaces of San Jacinto, also home of the Sosoba gaming casino. He planned for everything from sleeping arrangements, dinner menu, breakfast to driving schedules. His plan called for each one of us buying our own dinner stakes and staples. Bob said: " Well... if that how you want to handle it,  I guess it's OK".

The following day, with Jorge at the wheel, we departed in the afternoon and we arrived in San Jacinto a few hrs. later. Our first stop was at his favorite market. To our surprise he said, "guys everything is on me" We of course would hear none of this. "Please" he added "I got it" after his many appeals, we agreed. We arrived at his beautiful home evocative of a Tuscan villa retreat. He assigned bedrooms, each more glamorous and hospitable than any Italian boutique hotel in Italy. The only thing missing were the grape vines.

Jorge, being aware that yours truly is a gourmet chef, asked me to prepare dinner. I happily acquiesced.  Before I began preparing the marinade, Bob pressed Jorge, "you need to let us pay our share of the expenses, we insist!". " Guys, I have something to confess, my wife gave me an ear-full". We listened attentively, "She scolded me, and taught me the essentials of good etiquette" Bob wanted to know what he was talking about. "Well... she chided me; and asked how could I invite friends to our home and then charge them for the food". After his confession Bob said, "Good for her, she is obviously  a  polished lady  who know how guests should be treated when invited to one's home" Of course, I we agreed and forgave Jorge for his social blunder. It also gave us a insight as to who was the real interior decorator of their beautiful home. Jorge said he was, but knowing his taste, we are sure it was his lovely wife Gloria.

After, an alfresco, dinner accompanied with a few bottles of excellent red wine which Jorge brought forth from his wine reserve, we continued our conversations on topics, our host enjoyed, ranging from fishing, food, politics, history etc., etc., etc., after hours of listening to our friend. I decided to turn in for the night. Bob stayed behind listening, listening, listening, liset... to Jorge.

We were up early after our host prepared some breakfast burritos and good coffee, we were on our way to the lake. Again, Jorge's loquaciousness continued. Suddenly, like a lighting bolt Bob and I looked at each other when jorge mentioned a noun in Spanish El Perico, a talking parakeet. "Yes!... that's it!" we shouted simultaneously with exhilaration.That's exactly what we were looking for! Right there Jorge was baptized El Perico.

Center View of Hemet lake

right side view of lake

Finally we arrived at Hemet lake, a man made water reservoir which also serves as a recreation area for local citizens and visitors alike. The common species found in this lake are rainbow trout, bass and catfish. The lake was virtually deserted I only saw two or three anglers aside from us. We tried casting iron, cast-masters and feather jigs with out  getting any bites. We changed to power baits of different colors. with out luck. After a couple of hours el Perico said, "let get out of here" We drove to Jenks lake where we had better luck and went home with our limit of trout and a happy Perico.

Bob with the only catch at Hemet lake-this guy never throws anything back

El Perico-all smiles with his early catch at Jenks lake

 On the way back home Perico was reflecting on his fishing trek and because he didn't want to clean the fish, he suggested that I should take them all home. I told him that I was very tired and my injured knee was swollen. I was not able to stand for a long period of time. He, of course, didn't believe me until I demonstrated my aggrieved knee, only then did he demonstrated some humanity and agreed to clean the fish,therefore, he kept them all.

pobrecito!

Stay tuned

Fishing The Eastern Sierras

(click on picture for larger view) 

Successful fishing trips require good planning, insuring every member has a good time, has the necessary equipment and tools, schedule of daily activities and adequate lodging. Further, as the reader may recall, insure the attendance of a master angler is Paramount. All of these ingredients were taken into account before our departing date. Suddenly our master angler, Bobby had, in his words, a terrible feeling about this trip. He had studies the cycles of the moon, the weather projections, some weird alchemy and guidance from his spiritual shaman.  All of these forces, had convinced him to reconsider making the trip. In the end he decided not to accompany us. I must confess, the group was devastated. One of our most garrulous members, Jorge, knowing that Bobby was on a fixed income, volunteered to pay all his expenses. Javier also wanted to help, but Bobby did not budge. He said it was not a question of money, "I have plenty of money!",  he retorted with a feeling of frustration. It was question of forces beyond his control. Jorge, chuckled, he was not convinced... Javier was incredulous, and rolled his eyes. Still we left without him.

In-take II lake

Being charged with the planning and coordination, I was ready for any unforeseen event, I had to use my ace in the hole. Javi, a fine young man from Sacramento who, as a little boy, I had taught to fish. He would be meeting us in the Sierras. Now a graduate from the University of Davis, he is not only a master angler but also a published environmental scientist, working with the California  Department of Water Resources - fishery improvement. We learned that he is not only highly skilled at catching fish but because he has been studying them for so long, he also thinks like a fish. After hearing the news of who our new member was, the team was euphoric.

We arrived in Bishop, our home base, on a Monday afternoon and headed straight to in-take II. A small body of water, where  Javi surprised Javier with a handsome new fishing pole and a state-of-the art reel. We started by testing different color and scents of  power bait, scented worms, jigs and feathers. We quickly eliminated the dark colors; salmon-peach and rainbow power baits were most successful. In a short time we noted that Nicko our youngest angler caught the first trout and Javi had attained his limit in less than an hour while Jorge, Javier and myself had to struggle to get a few prizes in our stringers. After a few hours we decided to head down to Bishop for dinner and a good night rest in preparation for the full day fishing on Tuesday.

Javi at In-take II with his flotation device

Very early in the morning after some light nourishment, we headed towards one of the most beautiful lakes  in the sierras, Sabrina. A large body of water with excellent streams, perfect for the stream enthusiast. Four of us quickly sought out a spot along the shoreline and proceeded to cast out lines. Javi, just as energetically, headed towards the streams. After a half hour, Jorge who is not known to possess the virtue of patience expressed "l don't think there are any fish here." Nicko told him to change his bait and get a longer leader. Unexpectedly, our stream angler returned, with his limit of 6 huge trout.

The Sacramento stinger-Always with his limit.

All of us made our way lickety-split towards the streams, and secured some excellent spots around tide pools, deep holes and shaded water. We also tried salmon eggs, worms, feathers and power bait. After about an hour, we noticed that Javi was busy catching and releasing trout. The rest us us were blanking-out on strikes. Jorge, frustrated,  said "Let's get out of here, this is too hard" Feeling responsible as I was the coordinator of the trip, I asked them to pack-up and returned to Intake II. We arrived just as planting was taking place and fished there until noon. Javi, the "Sacramento Stinger"  had already caught his limit at the streams so he caught and released perhaps 50 to 60 trout of various sizes. The rest of us, except one, caught our limit. But fear not, Nicko helped him reach his limit.

Then, we drove to town for a much needed lunch on the way down our master gave us a few pointers on how to improve our chances of increasing the number and  size of trout. We were all eagerly listening to his lecture. Jorge, the continuous learner, of course asked many, many questions. After lunch Jorge asked to be dropped off at the gambling casino to try his luck with the one arm bandits. We returned to pick him up perhaps around 8:00 pm. He sure was in better spirits, he was in his own Nirvana, smiling even his prominent jowls we jovial.  We all asked him, How much did you win? Nothing... "I lost $80.00 dollars". And... "that makes you happy" Javier asked "yes", he replied, "it was fun".

Triple play-with this team-Nicko, Jorge, Javi-fish don't stand a chance!

Nicko & Jorge working as a team with good result

Upon our return to the lake in the following day, I noticed that Jorge was more productive after Nicko  tutored him on how to "set the hook" and to read the movement on the tip of his fishing pole. We asked Nicko where he learned trout fishing, he said "Master Bobby taught me at Jenks Lake". Although Bobby wasn't here, his force made a powerful presence... in his young apprentice.

Thursday was our last day of fishing and by the time we got to the lake, we were welcomed by much cooler morning and clouds. It seemed like a perfect day but it was tough going: we had to fight for every fish. Still, all of us caught our limit. During this trip, Javier received a few lessons on how to cast jigs. Afterwards he couldn't put his pole down.He caught so many fish "jigging"... he also started catching and releasing. " I love casting with my new outfit. Thanks son!..." In all of my life, I had never seen Javier so happy and catch so many fish as on this trip. His happiness was  so overwhelming that he volunteered to clean the day's bounty.

Javier & son bonding

look mom!

We quit earlier in order for us go to a barbecue restaurant which had been in Jorge's mind all week long.
After dinner, the conversation returned to the highly successful week thanks to the guidance and assistance from our new master angler. Jorge who has been blessed or cursed with the need to talk incessantly, wondered out loud who would come out ahead in a fishing contest between our northern master, Javi and our southern master, Bobby. Javier thought it would be interesting. Nicko reflected that Javi is younger but Bobby taught him more. Jorge felt that each one had his strengths. Javi is at least forty years younger, faster, smarter. Bobby, on the other hand, is patient, older, slower, wiser. Javi interjected, "Hey guys remember as a little boy, Bobby taught me how to fish the streams". I volunteered my services to promote the event, "If you guy want, I can coordinate the contest between;
          The Sacramento Stinger  vs. The Yucaipa Satyr .
Javier, who happens to be Javi's dad, stipulated that I would have to find a neutral lake."Remember Bobby is a crafty, old buzzard. He only wants to fish Jenks Lake",  "In a neutral place" he said, "I go for my boy!". I exclaimed with delight that the Rubicon would be crossed. I committed to be fair and impartial in scheduling the contest and of course, ... "I'll take on the winner".

 We left Bishop with good memories of friends having fun, breaking bread together and excellent fishing.



Stay tuned

Observation At The Medical Center

This morning I had an appointment at the medical lab, I entered and followed the directions on the ticket vending machine. I obediently grabbed my number and took a seat. After a few minutes my number was called by a receptionist, one of many calling numbers, she registered me and the printer spitted out a half of dozen labels. The receptionist handed them to me and proceeded to return to my seat. At that precise moment I noticed a small elderly woman also sitting in the waiting room. She seemed familiar but I couldn't place her. She was hunched over, very frail and almost completely bald. I sat there achingly wanting to remember, where have I seen her? I asked myself.

She suddenly got up from her seat, her number was called, the short measured steps and a constant smile caused me to remember  who she is. When she returned to her seat I drew near her and began a conversation. She was anxious and happy to talk to someone. Her speech was clear, she had enamored memories of the times she was called as a substitute teacher, many years ago, at one of my old schools. I remember her because no matter what grade level we called her for, she was always ready. I kept my curiosity on check regarding her age, because when I  first met her she was already retired. She shared with me how much she enjoyed teaching and how difficult it was for her to give it up. I could see the twinkle of a tear on a tired face full of pleasant memories. My number was called. I stood up we wished each other good heath, good luck and I went behind the door to keep my appointment.

Visit to the Vet.

After listening to every ones' concern with Aki, I promised that I would look at her and to give her a visual examination, but before I could begin I heard a chorus, "just take her to the Vet" . This outburst forced me to prove my qualification in order to continue. I produced my old military ID card which identified me as a medic . After a thorough examination I agreed to take the dog to the vet.
Never having been to a Vet before, I wasn't prepared for my first visit. I walked in and I encountered a waiting room-full, of noble pet owners with worried looks and concern in their faces. Dogs and cats with expensive collars and hair cuts wrapped in blankets, quilts and sweaters. Some owners were very perturbed to the point of distress, a couple kids sobbing, others had birds one little boy has a good size snake.

After I took a seat with Aki laying next to me, an assistant provided me a set of forms to complete; requesting a full history of the "patient" and form of payment-cash or credit card. I completed the forms, returned them and waited to be called.
After perhaps fifteen minutes Aki was called by her name and my last name. I guess this would become the day of her official baptism. She was humanized she was called girl, "what do we have here... Oh a sick girl", "how do you feel girl?", "not well hu? you poor girl" The Vet was having a conversation with the dog and answering for the dog. He examined the her, took x-rays, diagnosis?... an ear infection, perhaps something was stuck in the ear. She would have to be anaesthetised so they could dig into the ear. I was asked to return in three hours and take her home.
When, I returned to the Vet, they seemed happy to see me, "Hi... she is awake and has been asking for you" yeah, right! " How would you like to pay for this? cash or card!". Card I answered, "that will be $369.00 please"; I guess spaying will have to be postponed for now. They gave me some antibiotic and ointment, ear wash and instructions to follow up. As I left I noticed that waiting room was still full of owner with their pets, I mean, "boys" and "girls".
If my grandchildren ask me about career advice I will happily suggest, be a Veterinarian.

Niko's best friend

On a hot summer afternoon I was hard at work in my garden, when my lovely affectionate wife, our sweet daughter Sara and Niko our wonderful grandson, greeted me smiling and said, "how you doing abuelo have you had a good day?, your garden looks good"... Sara asked "how about a glass of nice cold ice tea?". Why why are they being so nice, I wondered. " I would love an ice-tea"' I replied... just as Sara returned with the tea, Mercedes said, "Niko has something to ask you"... "Can we keep her please, please" and pulled out a puppy from behind his back. I said "No way "hosay!" Remember what happened to the last dog?" Loki, a puppy Rottweiler that grew into 120 lbs. of ill-tempered muscles, fond of attacking humans including our son Alex. "But... this one is nicer I'll take good care of her" Niko implored... " "come on abuelo, I will feed her, give her water you won't have to do anything". "She won't bother you" Sara added, "I will help him". I reminded her of her aversion to picking up the dog's poop with out gagging or throwing up and who ended up doing this chore? me.

My sweet wife interjects "come on be nice, I will also help...whenever I can".
The pressure was mounting... I had to think quickly, aha! I said "look it wouldn't be fair, dogs need to be exercised, bathed, brushed, remember you quit doing these chores before and I ended up doing them. Specially walking the dog? further when she get older she will not get along with our cat" They were all silent... Niko sat quietly on the step with the puppy on his lap and a melancholy face. Sara dispiritedly looked to the ground, I felt confidant my sweet wife knew I was right, she understood the logic of my argument, surely she will support me.

Suddenly everyone grew quiet, I knew immediately she was going to speak, her lovely lips are about to announce and reaffirm my logic. She raised her right eyebrow and with a wroth tone said, "those are the most ignoble excuses, further more..." that was all she had to say, after that. We had a new dog at home, they named her hawkie. The first days, weeks and months were OK, for the most part they took care of the dog, but months turned to years 2004, . . . . . 2010, six years later, guess who is in charge of dog maintenance?


Now every one promised to keep the gate closed at all times. Well someone forgot and for two days hawkie vanished. Niko was worried sick about his dog. He had me drive him around the city and a couple of animal shelters with out much success. On the third day a friend of his brought him this picture. He quickly called the number, it was the animal shelter they had the dog."My dog is in the animal jail, we got to get her out" He hauled me to the animal shelter. Being a good abuelo we went to claim the animal. What I did no expect was the exorbitant fees just to claim a dog: lodging and care$$, "loose dog" citation$$, medical treatment $$, rabies shot because we didn't bring proof of shots $, duplicate license $, Oooh! your dog is not spayed $$$. The total was over two hundred dollars and still have to get her spayed. So I told them to keep the dog, for that amount of money I could buy ten dogs.

I started to walk out, But Niko refused to leave his dog behind, the attendant at the counter said, Ohm! look, poor little boy he wants his dog". Well Niko convinced me to pay. What could I do? The dog was licking Niko's face, Niko was kissing the dog... they had me. They both looked at me with sad eyes. I had to give in. We took the mutt home. My reward? Niko said "I love you abuelo, thank you" The dog happily waged her tail. I walked out of the shelter with two very happy friends, it was all worth it.

Once in a while my wife takes the dog walking with her, in one particular day after a walk she says something is wrong with the dog can you check her?. Nicko tells me abuelo, " hawkie looks sick can you see what's wrong ". Sara finds me in the garage as tells me something is wrong with the dog's ear. Alex, our youngest son, tells me "the dog looks messed up, she can't even walk". My wife said we need to take the dog to the Vet. By now I know that, "we" means me!

Stay tuned: a visit to the Vet.

Jenks Lake Fishing

(click on pictures for larger view)

With summertime upon us my fishing buddies have been eager to begin our wanderlust fishing adventures. None more eager than my "compadre" Jorge, you may recall it was extremely difficult for him to accompany us on many of our trips last year. Bob invited us to fish his lake at the foothills of Yucaipa, some 80 miles from Los Angeles. Jorge is very eager to try-out his expensive new fishing gear, he even volunteered to drive his new Tundra.
With all of our gear, food and refreshment on board and much anticipation we headed east towards the San Bernardino mountains. According to my calculations we should be on the lake in an hour and twenty minutes. But wait, Jorge drove past the freeway entrance, bewildered I asked "What happened? you missed the on ramp", "don't worry" he said, "I know where I'm going" He drove five miles further to his favorite gas station where he proceeded to chat with the attendant and other customers, drink coffee, eat sweet rolls and finally pump the gas.

Twenty minutes later we entered the freeway. We were listening to the world cup soccer game between Mexico and France when all of the sudden he turned off the radio. "Mejor vamos a platicar", he wanted to chat; we discussed retired life, stock market, world events, home improvements etc. About this time I informed him we were driving too slow in the pool lane and every other lane was going faster than we were. He responded that they were bad drivers and he has never had a traffic citation, never-the-less he moved over to the slow lane and we returned to the world cup game. By the time we reached San Bernardino, an hour late, he needed to make another pit stop after twenty minutes we continued our trek. We finally reached Jenks lake two hour and twenty minutes after leaving LA.

Our good friend and fishing pro. Bob was waiting for us, he was very exited because he had already brought in some "lunkers", big-ones. While I prepared my gear, Bob quickly took Jorge under his tutelage, with a perfectly distilled mixture of experience, skill and swagger. He proceeded to instruct his young apprentice the finer skills of rainbow trout fishing starting with rigging the hook, line and sinker following with the difficult long casts necessary to hit the sweet spot and proper procedure on landing the fish, taking out the hook and into the cooler.



After Bob's fishing workshop we are ready to fish this beautiful lake. Everyone with due diligence finds a fishing spot. As the day goes by we notice that Jorge keeps putting fish in his cooler,
a sure sign that he has his mojo working. We take a break for refreshments and lunch and again we realize Jorge's exceptionalism; Bob and I have plain sandwiches, cokes and beer. He brought ice tea, fine coffee, fruit salad, goat cheese, grapes, croissant sandwiches and white wine. He is obviously a gourmet and and aficionado of the finer things of life.
After lunch Bob and Jorge continue their sterling
performance of bringing them up while, I enjoy a a peaceful day with good friends. Bob takes the opportunity to teach us "how to read" the lake; identify deep spots, rock formations under water, the importance of water plants and weeds, wind direction, currents and water temperature at different depths. He insists that trout have very acute senses such as smell, therefore do not introduce foreign substances such as sun tanning lotion or cologne when handling your bait. sight, don't move around, trout have a close range of vision and most important sound, trout according to him pick up on voices, vibrations, water splashing so "keep noise to a minimum". He advises no radios, bells or rattles on fishing poles-if you want a good fishing day.

As we head home the natural beauty of the mountains scrolls through the windshield and we realize how peaceful it is to be away from the big urban centers; cluttered freeways, noise and hassle of the city. Something happens when you are fishing with good friends. You have an opportunity for reflection, recollection and renewal. Just about that time my "compadre" reminds us of his skill and luck he is the only one taking home a cooler full of fish. Great job Jorge.

photos: courtesy of Bob Venegas

Stay tuned: for more fish tales