About a week ago, I was stunned to see on the news that Budge Brown, founder of the Manteca waterslides, was missing on a plane flight from Nevada to his ranch in Tracy. Search and rescue units searched for several days before finding the wreckage of his plane in a rugged Sierra Canyon. My heart goes out to the Brown family and my prayers are with them.
What a crazy spring we've been having lately!
Like most young adults, in my early 20s, I was pretty sure I was immortal and that I could hike anywhere with no problem. I would backpack into remote streams in search of the rare Golden Trout or the even more rare Paiute Trout.
The world didn't come to an end Saturday.
When I scribed about my excitement of anticipating covering the "final" meeting between East Union and Manteca High's baseball teams back on April 29 I knew they'd meet up again.
It's that time of year again when I get plenty of calls or emails from friends and family who want to go fishing.
Although the 100th running of the Indianapolis 500 is still more than a week away, this weekend's qualifying for "Greatest Spectacle in Racing" is causing quite a buzz.
My buddy Stephen posts things like, "The kings aren't going to catch themselves."
Oftentimes you hear old timers lamenting about how "the fishing ain't as good as it used to be," or the hunting, the gold panning, etc. It sort of reminds me of Will Rogers's observation that "everybody complains about the weather, but nobody ever does anything about it." Conservation of our outdoor resources, however, is a different story. You actually can make a difference. There are a host of organizations that do all sorts of projects improve our fishing, hunting and overall outdoor experience.
I'm guessing there are very few of us who haven't been affected by some type of cutback over the last few years.
I guess it's appropriate that last week's self-deprecating column, one in which I strung together some of my more human moments, was missing the first 200 words, and ended up making no sense.
No matter who ends up getting covered with the beautiful bouquet of roses after the 137th Kentucky Derby, the chances of the winning jockey-horse combination coming in at hefty odds seem to be pretty good.
It only takes a few consecutive days of 80-plus degree weather to send crowds of boaters towards our local waterways.
I won't waste your time with a top list of anecdotes since Monday was my birthday, or break into a 'Best of', because authentic existence has little to do with embellishment-laced highlights. A life is a non-stop series in reactions. So for those wondering what the life of an outdoor columnist is really like, here's what has highlighted my journey to 30.
I first became addicted to archeology in the summer of 1948. I was a youngster camping along the headwaters of the Mokelumne River with my parents. One morning I knelt down to clear away some rocks on the ground so that I could play marbles, when one of the rocks caught my eye. Upon closer examination, I discovered that my "rock" was really an Indian arrowhead made of shiny black obsidian! I was hooked on archeology from that point on. Collecting arrowheads became a family obsession. We eventually assembled a pretty significant collection of artifacts in our Indian Room.
Like a lot of those reading this, I used to take every fish home to be cooked up for dinner. After a while, I got tired of having to clean fish after a long day of fishing so I just threw them back. Once I started tournament fishing, I'd always throw them back in hopes of catching them again during a tournament.
We anglers are a fortunate bunch. We belong to a brotherhood and sisterhood of helpful gregarious souls who are almost always willing to chat with a stranger and share local fishing information. The past week, I've found myself out in Salt Lake City, accompanying my wife at a genealogy conference. Usually my trips to the Salt Lake area are in warmer weather without snow on the ground. On an ordinary trip, I'll end up fishing the either Provo River or the Green River for a couple days, but this trip I figured it would be too cold and ...
Fishing in the winter is tough.