Jorge's pursuit for a hobby

By some measures Jorge is a proud Mexican, never forgetting his roots. Like his rustic rancho in Delicias-delights, in the northern state of Chihuahua Mexico. To this day you can still find him, at anytime,  in a pilgrimage to the eternal land of his ancestors. Now it is a modern city with the largest water dam in the state, best know for its agriculture and pecan fields. The apologia for his seasonal treks are his family members and the tempered beauty of  land he embraces and that summons him with vibrant memories of his youth and a longing to delve deeper into his culture. His closest friends appreciate that he wears el nopal en la frente with pride.

Because of the circumstances faced by many well-to-do Mexicanos during the Mexican revolution his ancestors were forced to be exiles in the U.S., settling in California. Here the Garcia's would make their mark. With a strong desire to succeed, many members of the Garcia clan have become highly successful and productive citizens of the United States.

My compadre Jorge waiting for his wife after Sunday church services.

I first met Jorge when we were young school administrators in Los Angeles.  We have become friends and compadres ever since. Over the years we have seen our children grow. Now that we have been retired for a number of years I noticed that he seemed bored. He tried golf: didn't like it. He tried tennis: it was too fast for him. He tried racket ball: I kept beating him. He started gambling becoming a regular at most of the Indian casinos in California and indulged in monthly trips to Vegas. He said he did "all right" but was soon back at work earning more money to gamble. One day we invited him to lunch and the first words out of his mouth were:
" Retirement depresses me ". He stated that his days have become predictable and routine. Finding himself getting out of bed later and later each morning. He had developed a habit of watching telenovelas, soap operas with such tear jerking titles as;  La hija del mariachi and Que bonito amor.  " I just love them, my favorite is..." he stops for a moment... and shouts, "You see why I need to join your fishing team. I need to be out with the guys !".

                                   
Since that realization he has been working hard with Bob, our expert angler, becoming more competent in the sport. On his first outing with the group to to the Eastern Sierra Nevada, he was in high spirits. Rushing out the car upon arrival at Intake II lake, he marvels at the tall pines. "Man I love it here" he shouted gazing at the green fluttering aspens surrounding the lake. Prancing towards the lake, he splashes the water, "It's cold! ", he shouts again. Bob finally settles him down and helps him with his fishing gear. " I love the scent of nature in the morning ", he blurts out, anxiously sitting down for a relaxing day of fishing.
Jorge allows himself to relax with full knowledge and awareness of the task. Only performance will help him release the total pressure. After repeated casts into the lake and losing a few fish, he continues to persevere. Being a baseball fan, he understands that stopping at third base adds nothing to the score of the game. "I've got to catch one," he murmurs as he religiously crosses himself asking assistance from the Almighty.

The best way to succeed in fishing is to act on the advice given by other anglers, like Bob and Nick, whom Jorge credits with helping him succeed. Here he is taking time to feed the ducks behind him. At the lower right hand of the picture you can see a couple of small rainbow trout on his line. "I love being in the outdoors" he cheers. "Even my high blood pressure has subsided! " I reminded him that he is also learning the virtue of patience.

By the third day of our trip, he was in heaven, the first one to bring in a couple of trouts and was more introspective about his surroundings; absorbing the terrain, spotting wildlife, viewing and  identifying birds. He instantly fell in love with the vastness of the forest, its clean blue skies... He was amazed at the intensity of white haired  waterfalls ". Invite me again next year", he shouted with excitement.
On the way back to the cabin, he confided that this was the best fishing vacation he ever had. "I remember when I was a little boy, my uncles would take me fishing in the water dam in Delicias, but I don't remember having as much fun as this".

With a week full of adventure with good friends, we head back home. Driving south on highway 395, we stopped for gas in the town of Bishop, better know as the mule capital of the world. The town is an excellent spot for resting and resupplying anglers, skiers and mountain climbers. After filling-up and adding ice to our cooler, Javier asked, "where's Jorge?" "I know exactly where he is" said Bob. To our dismay, we found him glued to a slot machine inside the Indian casino next to the gas station. I couldn't help wondering if gambling is a hobby or vice.