The first stop on our trip, Madrid Spain

Our trip to the Iberian peninsula Spain and Portugal allowed us to make our own connections of the walled cities, of centuries past, and the flourishing and exiting metropolises of today.
As our plane descended into the capital city of Spain, Madrid an old ballad began stirring in my mind, "Madrid, Madrid, Madrid, en Mexico se piensa mucho en ti"...a song of my youth composed by one of Mexico's greatest composers Agustin Lara.

Madrid, Madrid, Madrid in Mexico we often think of you...

 In Madrid we took a sightseeing drive along Paseo de la Castellana with its famous fountains in Plaza de Cibeles, a sublime blending of culture, architecture and art.
 

Oh yes, I forgot to mention, Velázquez is a very popular name in Spain, streets,
avenues, parks and buildings are named Velazquez. One of the prominent artist
 of Spain is  Diego Velázquez... just thought it was worth mentioning it.

Before long, we ran into Don Quijote, an old acquaintance of mine, whom I had not saluted since my early years in my Spanish literature class at California State University, Los Angeles. Don Quijote in his outlandish adventures along with his squire, Sancho Panza always tried in is his arbitrary manner to dispense justice.

photo from plaza de España

Miguel Cervantes de Saavedra, the maximum figure in Spanish literature brought his masterpiece Don Quijote de la Mancha to life in 1605 and completed it ten years later.

After an exhilarating  first day in Spain, we returned to our hotel and readied ourselves for a night
in the town and  an exceptional dinner of  "manjares Ibericos".

A typical manhole on the sidewalk, this was is for traffic signals,  We were very impressed;
pedestrians have the right of way and drivers are most courteous.  The traffic lights offer plenty of time
to cross the wide avenues..

Madrid was originally called  Mayrit during the Moorish occupation. In 1083 King Alfonzo I, took Christian control of the city and all symbols of Muslims were removed. In 1561, the Spanish Court was transferred from Toledo to Madrid.
Today it is the seat of the Spanish government,a very lively city and the nerve center of Spain. We found the Madrileños to be warm hearted, helpful and friendly people. They always took time to help us find places or guide us on the right direction. We will have to come back for a longer stay.

Fishing adventure: 2016 Eastern Sierras

Plans were made, calendars cleared for our 2016 annual trek to the gorgeous Eastern Sierras. Javier, "el dormido", Jorge "el perico" with his brother-in-law, Lupe and myself were primed and set. Unfortunately, our scout Bob, the trout slayer, was not quite up to it, something to do with his electrolytes being out of sink. We were obviously saddened but wished him a quick recovery.

Javier quickly pulled out his information and schedules, defining which fishing holes, streams and lakes we would fish. We were impressed with his preparation and quick recitation of the distances, locations and stocking schedules. His use of "Siri" driving directions insured our correct arrival to each destination. With everything in order, we departed our urban sprawl.

From the stress of the city to the relief of the Eastern Sierras... already feeling relaxed.
( picture courtesy of  Pinterest)
                                                          

With high expectations, the group of anglers settled down to a much deserved vacation heading north, stopping in the Mohave desert for a light breakfast with good conversation over hot coffee. As we resumed our journey, "el perico" graciously pointed out all the places of interest to our newest angler. We made a quick stop at the visitor's center and took a few pictures of the elegant Mount Whitney.
                                                               

Mount Whitney the highest point, at 14,505 feet, in the contiguous Unite States.                         

We continued our drive through the quiet and picturesque communities along CA 395 Independence famous for its historic Inyo County Court House and a few Bed and an Breakfast lodgings. Big Pine with its' Western Movies Museum and Long Pine, where we found some honey fishing holes in our previous trip, didn't pan out this time.
We arrived in Bishop and headed straight to our favored lake, Intake II.  We always stop here because it is close to our hotel and it gives us an opportunity to practice our casting and try new baits before hitting the big lakes early the next morning. We caught a few and headed down to Bishop for dinner and prepare for the serious fishing of the next several days.

Happy fishing grounds, Nirvana,  Intake II lake

Whenever we visit this lake, it's like coming home, just like sitting by a water garden with cool mountain breeze fanning down to the surface of our host, Intake II, while we take a few sips of Merlot or a cold Pacifico beer. At this time of the afternoon and after the drive, hooking a rainbow trout is secondary to admiring the majestic panoramas of mother nature.

 The following morning, Javier scheduled us to head out to Little Virginia, a beautiful lake about an hour north of Bishop. This freshwater playground may be one of California greatest hidden honey spots for rainbow trout. The cool summer air at this altitude and the fishing action made for a relaxing

experience. As soon as we arrived, each one of us chose a space along the water line of the lake.

"El perico" quickly established himself in his comfortable chair and patiently waited for the fish to hook themselves on his baited line. He enjoys time alone. This hobby allows him time to meditate and reminisce about his many accomplishments. He contemplates about meaning of life and we enjoy a prolonged rest from his confabulated chatter. His relaxed method works because slowly but surely he did catch his limit.

Jorge's brother-in-law, Lupe, visiting from Tucson, overwhelmed the rest of us. He just kept bringing them in one after the other. I sensed a little bit of jealousy from Jorge. He said that it was just beginners luck. I moved next to him so I began to bring them in also. After catching our limit we changed to catch-and-release... no! not only the small ones.

Javier," el dormido" was not asleep this
time; he caught fish right and left. He was
almost as hot as  Lupe aka "the Arizona Trout Killer" or as Javier christened him "el fuereño." I am not sure who caught more fish... you try counting them.

Javier insisted that we return to Little Virginia this time we caught more than the previous day. By noon Jorge suggested that we try a more challenging venue because he was hooking too many fish. After his limit, he too became a catch-and-release angler. Very good Jorge! That's what good outdoors-men do to protect the sport. A group consensus was reached and the following days, we fished at Sabrina Lake, North Lake and South Lake, all in the White Mountains at about 8,000 feet above Bishop.

High Eastern Sierras in the background, La Buena Vida, Who is that bald headed guy?

Making our way to North Lake

Big Virginia Lake next to Little Virginia

Side view of Mount Whitney along US 395 returning from June Lake.

What can be better on a late-summer afternoon than a fish fry with fresh rainbow trout. Hosted by  the new angler of our posse  Jose-Lupe "el fuereño" from Tucson.








But all good things come to an end... We collected the frozen bounty which filled our cooler, and made our way back home.
We had a fantastic fishing vacation among good friends. Till next time...

San Quintin: World Class Fishing

When anglers hear the words, " Let's go Baja fishing", our minds are quickly transported to the warm, clean, blue waters of the Pacific or the gulf of Baja California. Our visions of  tranquil fishing villages, warm, friendly people and hospitable lodgings made our selection easy. We agreed to re-visit one of our favorite places with its fortunate fishing waters... San Quintin. Being only five hours south of LA, it was an easy decision to make.
We made arrangements through El tiburon pangas, an outfitter with a good reputation, skillful captains and good service. We made reservations for two days fishing, the skiffs or pangas, were waiting for us at 5:00 am at the small dock on the only ramp in the village.

Main ramp adjacent to the Old Molino bar and restaurant

 On our first day, we met our captain "el chiflas", the whistler. He earned his moniker because he whistles when he works. And he really works and knows the waters and hot spots. The first thing we needed to do was to catch our own bait. We dropped our sabikis, bait catching rigs, and quickly filled the bait tank with small mackerels about 6 in long.

This is the perfect spot to catch your bait; the birds and the porpoises don't mind sharing with us.

We gathered plenty of live bait, small mackerel about 6 in long. We dispatched ourselves with all deliberate speed to the outer waters of the bay.

Fish on! As soon as we dropped our line, Javi hooked the first one of the day.

Manny hooks on a powerful swimmer and a good fighter, a big yellow tail. We quickly pulled our line out of the water to give him ample room to go around the boat.

Javi and Manny happily show off their first catch of the day.

Having taught these young men how to fish when they were kids... I refused to stay behind so I landed my own white sea-bass.

Just as we were thinking of returning to shore, Javi hooked a huge white sea-bass. He was most proud
of his catch because he brought on board a 69 pound fish with a twenty pound leader.

After a fruitful morning, we decided to look for some bottom fish and completed filling the coolers with a variety of reds, rocker, corvinas and others. Once full, we headed to shore where members of El Tiburon's team were ready to filet our catch while we retreated to  a good rest and dinner.

Our second day was more of the same.  Our new captain that day was Pedro.  We caught our share of sea-bass, barracudas, rock cod and smaller bass, filling our second set of coolers.

Manny and Javi with captain, "el chifles"

Manny with Captain Pedro.

JE NE SAIS QUOI In The Eastern Sierras

Over the past several years, our group of anxious urban city dwellers have taken advantage of the best rainbow fishing the Eastern Sierras has to offer. This year, we eagerly prepared for our trip. Bob, our guide, met us over lunch. He brought with him hand-made topography maps . He shared that his  inspiration were the photographs and presentation we saw at The National Historic site: Manzanar.  He marveled at the skill and success the Japanese had fishing under under dangerous and difficult condition. They  mastered their own skills of hooking trophy size trout. He searched old travel logs, DWP maps, mountain hiker's logs and  Google Earth pictures of hidden streams, lagoon, ponds and fishing holes.

North side view of Mt Whitney, a place of  rough, peaceful beauty.

As we approached the majestic sight of Mount Whitney, Bob quickly foraged through his papers and began shouting orders: "turn here! go straight!No right... left, cross that bridge, Wait, wait ... follow that path". Our fellowship had entered a wild uncultivated area of transitory nebulae and pot holes.
After what seemed like an eternity under the scorching sun, Bob finally said, "Let me study these maps again."
After a few rip-roaring minutes, our brave company stopped and started again ... and again. Finally we pulled into some heavy brush as Bob shouted "over there, there, there the stream!"  pointing to what he called a stream, the rest of us identified it as trickle of water.  As we  walked about the "stream", he shouted,  "Look there's the fish pond!" He grabbed his fishing pole and rushed over to it. The rest us, bewildered, just looked at each other. We grabbed a cold bottle of water and meandered over to find him with his fishing line in a puddle. "Well guys you know... it must be the drought., that's why it's so small" . We praised him for trying and scampered out of there headeding to Intake II,  a small lake in the mountains above Bishop.

Geographic area where we searched for Bob's elusive fishing pond.

On the following day of our fishing escapades, we decided to venture out to Little Virginia Lake. Upon arrival and noticing that the parking lot was overflowing with  recreational vehicles, we discerned that we had arrived arrived in a hot spot. The was a rumor that the lake would be restocked today. Bob had been tracking the fish stoking dates closely and he was sure that the rumor was true.  Jorge and I quickly made our way towards the far side of the lake. We arrived  out of breath, found a suitable spot, baited our hooks, cast away our lines and sat down to catch our breath. Bob, Manny and Javier, all stationed themselves  for a fruitful fishing day. No sooner than the time it took us to settle ourselves, we noticed a stampede of anglers heading away from the lake. It didn't take long for to find out why... No one was catching anything! After another 30 minutes, we joined them. We would  travel further but we were sure to catch more fish. Jorge, who was already in a grumpy mood because our trip was one day longer than he wanted, was not keen on driving to the Walker River. Getting lost on the way north didn't do anything to improve his disposition. Instead, we decided to stop at Rock Creek, a lake that always gives a good return.

From left to right Manny, Javier, Jorge and Bob getting their poles ready for their insertion into Rock Creek lake.

Here's how Javier and Jorge skulking their best efforts of hooking trout at Rock Creek,
 no wonder they left empty handed.

While  we saw anglers catch some fish, we felt that it was most important for us to take time and enjoy the experience. There is no hurry or quota to meet, no time cards to punch. When we had our fill of admiring the wonders of mother nature we would just mosey on down the mountain for a good dinner with a nice glass of Chardonnay.

We followed the group's wishes to "hit" a variety of water environments: creeks, lakes, streams and river. Therefore, the following day, we headed out to the Owens river in Bishop by the airport district. For the first time Jorge became animated at the sight of trout jumping out of the water.  He grabbed his pole and ran to the edge of the river, the rest of the group followed.

Jorge and his reflection on the water, casting out for the jumping rainbow trout.

Manny fly fishing with a variety of  flies.

Bob trying some "field goal' casting his line some 15 feet above the river bank.

Javier using two poles: one north, one south trying his best to catch a big one.

While many anglers come strictly to fill their cooler, our team's primary goal is to indulge ourselves in the high country, enjoy the comradeship, get a few fish but most of all, admire the majestic Sierra Nevada. We take the time to enjoy the magnificent mountains, vivid waters,  picturesque towns and their wonderful people.

We'll be back again next year.

Sophia: A name of Greek origin. Meaning: knowledge, wisdom

It was a warm autumn morning when my phone rang.  My compadre's name, Jorge, appeared on the phone screen. "Don't forget that we are meeting for lunch in Riverside," He reminded me. I told him that Javier and I were on our way and Bob was meeting us at the restaurant. We were meeting in Riverside, being that he has been living in Hemet for the better part of a year. This is because he and his wife have a new commission: babysitting their beautiful new granddaughter.

Hemet is a dusty little town in the San Jacinto Valley of  Riverside County. You know you have arrived when you come across numerous sun-drenched, heat stoked, brush and trees with occasional dry dusty creeks. You can conclude why I was incredulous to hear his claim that he has been living there for so long and only comes down to the city to inspect and pay the caretaker of his principal residence.

In the  forty or so years that I've known him, Jorge has never been away from his home for more than two weeks. He likes to be available to take care of his rental properties He is serious about his hobby of constantly maintaining and upgrading his real estate holdings. He enjoys, landscaping, painting and updating all of his rentals. He also enjoy purchasing tools and heavy construction equipment, " I like to be ready for any job that comes up and I don't like to rent machines or tools," he asserts . His friends have warmly named Jorge, a slum landlord.

Therefore, you can certainly understand my bewilderment when Jorge disappeared for months until we met for lunch at Simple Simon's restaurant in the heart of Riverside's historical center. "I am babysitting my beautiful new granddaughter, Sophia," he cheerfully declared.  His exuberance  was accompanied with a wide ear-to-ear smile. "I prepare her breakfast, lunch and dinner, bathe and change her.  Sometimes I let my wife help me. But I do most of the work". When he noticed the incredulous faces of his closest friends, he added, "Really, I'm even teaching her to crawl... by crawling on the floor with her, I'm also making her some flash cards of the numbers, vowels and colors. She is very intelligent!" Then he stated his  main goal, " I'm going to have her reading by her third birthday"!

Jorge recounted his experience since it had been some forty-five years since he fed a baby, "I'll be honest with you". He said, "There was some trepidation in my heart; I didn't think I 
would be up to the job. But I did it all by myself... I'm committed to it, Yea!" 

Here Jorge is happily and proudly posing for the camera with his grand-daughter. 
He told us that she is beginning to sound out the vowels as he showed us her pictures. 
Robert said , "She is beautiful, looks just like Gloria... her grandma". Javier and I were in 
complete agreement "Que bueno que no se parece a mi",  Jorge added. 
"gracias a Dios". Bob murmured.

Sophia, the Goddess of wisdom in Greek mythology, leisurely crawling towards grandpa. 

As we were concluding our lunch and conversation, I discerned that Jorge's commitment and dedication are lovingly bound to a manda. A solemn vow by Gloria to God on behalf of their family, as is the custom in Mexican families.

Jorge's enthusiasm was evident in his speech; he was energetic, animated and, in fact, he seemed inspired. Sophia when grandpa teaches you to read, you can read what he said, 

" Sophia your grandma, and I love you with all our heart".

Well... after lunch as we departed and in unison, congratulated Jorge in his commitment. In spite of my rhetoric, we know who is the driving force on this endeavor; la jefa my comadre. Laurels to you Gloria!

Quotable quotes:

Grandparents: A grandchild's press agent. 

Grandparents: People who come to your house, spoil your children, and then go home.

The challenge at Intake 2... It's Hydraulics

Early the following morning, I pointed our Suburban in the direction of the mountains on Route 168. Within forty minutes, we were at 7000 + feet of elevation. I turned left onto Intake 2, a wonderful place to fish. The lake is about the size of a football field, with a huge water pipe constantly restoring water to the lake. This hydraulic movement of water is a perfect environment in which to study the surface flow and oxygenation of water. These conditions are great for fishing. As soon as I parked the car, the doors swung open, the anglers reached for their fishing poles and rushed towards the glistening, clear waters. Each angler quickly claims his real estate along the inviting surfaces of the lake.

Javier, with great expectations after winning the Mammoth competition, boastfully tried to intimidate the rest of us. Unfortunately Dagon, the ichthyoid god of fishing was against him. He ended up in 5th  place. The rest of us believe that his downfall was because his son, Javi, didn't stock his tackle box. Javier isn't usually aware of what to use or what he'll need.

Jorge, the first one out the door, quickly crawled underneath  the canopy of trees seeking a shady spot. There, completely hidden from view, he remained and was not seen again until he emerged from under the trees at departure time. Here, he happily displays his catch for the day. Good enough for 4th place... Opochtli, his Aztec god of fishing, failed him. "I tried to do better, I really wanted to beat Bob well... I'm happy that the kid beat him ". 

 Bob, a cranky, conservative fisherman of the old school, who lives with one thought in mind, "Catch more fish, (roar) more fish hence his moniker, the trout slayer. "I don't need no stinking demigods", He shouted as he stationed himself on a small section of the dam  next to the intake pipeline. He was attentive and determined to win. He hustled, changing baits frequently; powerbait to rat tails, plastic worms, hook sizes and leaders. With eagle-eye precision he casts his rig into the oxygenated current at the intake of the pipe. He worked it!  With his very respectable catch and the crowd behind him he, disappointingly, fell just short of first place. He settled for 2nd. place. Obviously sadden and disillusioned, he walked over to the New Champion, Little Dave and with his rapscallion charm, he congratulated him.

The championship plaque for first place was awarded to the 2014  champion Little Dave. Click play to hear the championship song from one of Dave's favorite singers.

"Work hard, play hard and fish hard... that my mantra" said Dave as he enjoyed a cold refreshment after winning the derby.  "This is a very delightful win", he added. "I had to go against some very good anglers. They have been fishing ever since I was child". "I won because I found the sweet spot in this lake, I have to plot it on  GPS . This is a special win and I owe it all to my dad who started me in fishing".

After the competition of fishing challenge, we got together the following day for a very delightful lunch . Being an outdoors-man Dave ordered an elk steak with chipotle sauce and country fried potatoes along with his favorite brew. He promised to win again in the 2015 season. The trout slayer reminded him not to count his fish before they are caught.

Want to hear another song? click play

Me? well... I came in in third place. Thank you for asking.