Toftrees Pair

With the lingering questions about Porter's prognosis, yesterday was just about shot, mentally. His bleeding had restarted and his energy the night before had bottomed out. While his energy was higher yesterday morning, the bleeding would quickly ensure he was back in dire straights. A trip to the vet resulted in a change of antibiotics (to directly target bacteria that worsens ulcers) and an increase in the stomach "coater" and antacids. Basically, if his body can't stop the bleeding, he's in serious trouble. Experimental surgery may be available, but is likely prohibitively expensive and far from a guarantee.

As Porter was supposed to fast all day (to limit stomach acids), I decided to let him rest for a while and head out to Toftrees with T for another walk. Paul and I agreed they should have stocked recently, so it might be worth a second shot. The packed access parking lot and shots that rang out as I geared up told me we were right. I was there less than five minutes when the first rooster flew directly over my head, bumped by a group of hunters just over a rise. I shouldered the gun and watched down the barrel as the bird flew to me, overhead, and away, swooping up into a thick tangle of rose, honeysuckle, and green briar. I wasn't going to shoot a bird in that situation after having only been there for such a short period of time. Plus, I wanted to get some good bird contacts with T, even resolving to not shoot birds that weren't pointed.

There were a lot of guys, a lot of birds, and a lot of shooting. Just walking in got the adrenaline pumping a bit. I probably let it get to me a bit and instead of walking around the action to the middle or back of the property, I jumped into the first good cover I saw. Not 10 yards in, T spun around and pointed, hard, to my right. I walked in a bit and he started to show signs of just pointing scent: is eyes started to wander, search, and his tail started to move. I encouraged him to hunt again and he got on a scent, worked to my left and through a thick tangle. Directly on the far side of the thickness I heard the bird go up - never saw it. It was the first sign that the birds were going to be running a lot today making the points hard. After a short walk, further into the cover, I decided to quit this nonsense (hunting under the barrage of gunfire) and head deeper into the property. It took a while to find a fence row without hunters in it, but finally got into a place by myself. On my way, I saw a few birds bumped by other parties - in fact, I didn't see a bird flushed and shot despite the repeated shots of guys emptying their guns.

Had almost a repeat experience of the first bird with T tracking a running bird only to have it flush on the far side of a thick, tall fence row. I really wasn't worried about it, but felt bad for T - working so hard only to have nothing happen... Further down the same fence row, T got birdy, false-pointing a few times, and I happened to see a hen flush about 40 yards out, T completely unaware. I raised the gun, but decided, again, not to shoot. It flared at the end of the fence row and I decided to take T down there and see if we could find it. I don't know if it lit in a tree or what, but we couldn't get on any scent or find it. A short walk down the road, further away from the masses, we ducked down a sprinkler line and started hunting again. Thirty yards in, T locked on a solid point to my left. I worked toward him and a hen flushed about 15 yards in front of him. I had hoped to get shots at two roosters, but the point was so perfect, the flush so good, I raised the gun and fired the left barrel. The bird folded. T had a hard time finding it on the ground because it fell directly on an active sprinkler line. I finally ran in and got the bird, dodging the water. We got reset and started hunting again. While T worked to me left, I happened to see a rooster fly in and duck into the cover off to our right, behind us. I called T (probably off another bird) and we jumped in after this bird. T was on scent right away and started tracking this bird who was obviously running. We jumped two fencerows and I saw the damn bird running about 50 yards away. T tracked it and we jumped another fence row and started working the opposite direction. We probably tracked that bird 400 yards or so and at the end of a fence row, T finally got too close and bumped the bird up. No point, but he'd worked so hard to track that bird, stayed close the whole time, and bumped it up well within range that I raised, swung right to left and dropped the rooster. T was on him in a flash and after a few mouthfuls of feathers, picked the bird up and brought it back to me (well, within 5 feet). I unloaded the gun and started to wish Paul or Ben were with me so we could keep hunting.

T locked on another solid point before we headed back to the car and we both watched as another rooster ran out of the cover, between T and I and away into the far cover. T was about as confused as a dog can be, waiting for me to shoot and having it never happen. I hate that. As soon as the bird was out of sight he dashed into the cover and bumped the bird up, cackling as it went. I called him off and we headed back to the car. Another hen flushed about halfway back; a number of guys walking around with empty vests.

The hunting there has gone downhill significantly. There are only a few days where you can find birds before the army of half-assed hunters clears the place out. It fails to resemble anything like hunting any longer. It's sort of good to get the dogs out there, but the scent and the bird behavior is so far from natural that it may be somewhat counter productive. The cover, too, is so rough on the dogs and prevents good shots, that it's hardly worth hunting a majority of the property. I may head out there one more time, but I'll be hard pressed to invest much more time. Oh, and the ticks are thick. Pulled one out of my leg this morning...gross.

Surgery

I'm happy to be able to sit and type some good news. While cautious, we're optimistic.

Porter went in mid-morning for surgery - didn't know what we'd find or if we could do anything about it, but it was our only chance at saving him. Was fairly convinced it wasn't going to be good, so I said my good-byes and held him as they administered the first round of sedatives. Not the easiest moment of the day.



I figured if I was going to get a call that my dog was dead, I'd better be in the woods. I came home and packed up my Vizsla and the double and headed to some good cover. A little ways into the trek, we bumped a big, red-phase grouse. The cover was thick, the leaves changed, but all still hanging to the trees and all I saw was the tail go up. The gun swung and went off where I thought the bird should be. Mr. T. ran in and we recovered the bird. A grouse, for Porter. I thought, given the poetry of the situation, that Porter was done for. About ten minutes later, the phone rang from the vet. I knelt with the gun, T at my side, and got some much needed good news.

What they found: two stomach ulcers, one healing, one actively bleeding. And big. This bigger, more problematic one was also in a hard to get to spot: the "back" of the stomach. While palpable, the ulcer could only be accessed by going into the stomach. But no cancer, no obstruction, no "whoknowswhat" that couldn't be addressed. Step one.

What they did: the smaller ulcer was left alone as it was mostly healed and looked good. To address the larger one, they cut into his stomach, cleaned out food, grass, and some clotted blood. Through the stomach, they were unable to "cut out" the ulcer, but instead, sutured it shut and covered with hemostatic (sp?) gauze. They sewed him up and woke him up.

How he reacted: His body temp was low following surgery so we spent a lot of time with a heating pad and blankets getting his temp up to normal. After his temp was up and he started to really wake up, he was groaning from the pain so pain meds were administered. This pretty much knocked him out and he slept, in and out, for 3 hours or so. He finally stood up, woke up (in that order), and pranced toward the door when asked "do you want to go outside?" Couldn't believe it. Got him some more pain meds and antibiotics before bringing him home. He walked out of the vets on his own and into the house although I lifted him in and out of the car.

Where we're headed: if all goes well, he'll sleep through the night with some pee breaks and perhaps a sip or two of water. If possible, I'll get some dissolved antacids into him. Tomorrow we head back to the vet for a check-up and likely IV. If we're on track, he should be on some bland, solid food tomorrow evening (boiled rice and venison). Fingers crossed. We're probably not out of the serious woods until 48hrs or so have passed and he is back on the solid food, drinking water, and having normal bowls, etc. We'll be staying close over the next couple days.

I'm 100% serious when I say this mojo stuff works. We were on a steady downhill beforehand. And regardless, it means a lot, for some odd reason, to know thoughts and positive energy are flowing. Thanks again. Hopefully, we'll continue down the road of recovery.

Porter

Fuck. Just got back from dropping Porter off at the Emergency Vet Clinic in State College. What we thought was a bleeding ulcer didn't better after a couple days and Porter lost all appetite for food and water. His gums, eyes, and inside of ears were all very pale; almost white. Took him to the vet this morning. IV and antibiotics all day. Blood tests showed normal liver and kidney function, very low red blood cell count, very high white blood cell count, and no sign of tick-borne disease. X-rays showed that he was retaining a lot of food in his stomach despite not having eaten in a while. A barium series showed some sort of object in his upper bowel/lower stomach. Blood tests showed pancreatitis, which means a lack of enzymes to break down food. While he has no energy, he's still happy to see me and Libby and loving as ever.

He'll spend the night tonight, get a blood transfusion followed by an ultrasound. Hopefully, the latter will give some indication as to what this mass is - the doctors are all puzzled currently. Barring metastasized cancer or a liver lesion, I think we'll be going into surgery in the morning. Regardless, the doctors are very guarded with their prognoses. He has lost a lot of blood and may not do well with all the required procedures.

I'm sick to my stomach. Hope there is some answer to why this is happening. Really hope I don't have to bury my dog in the next week. Enough graves already.

Last Day; Browns

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Last day of fishing. Drove an hour and a half to Silverthorne and fished the Blue River with Chris. We were just upstream from Green Mountain Reservoir and in the middle of the White River National Forest. Interesting connections.

The blue was crystal clear - we could easily see directly to the bottom of 10-15 foot pools. The fish could see well, too, spooking before casts were even made. I had fallen in first thing in the morning - a full on, shoulder deep dunk - so I didn't complain much when Chris suggested we bail and hit Clear Creek where the browns should be running. We packed up, hit Wendy's again (ugh), and drove 45 min to Clear Creek. Very odd place. Upstream from a small lake, loaded with browns, the stream runs right next to houses, roads, and a ski-resort further upstream. As Chris had warned, the scenery left a lot to be desired. But hell, we caught fish. A lot of them. Egg patterns of any color, little golden stoneflies, The Werm, and some PTs of various design all killed. It was probably a little unethical, fishing spawning browns, but it was hard to feel bad for such a disturbed stream. It was good practice to sight-fish individuals, watch how the fish examined flies and rejected or took. I was most surprised at how many fish tried to eat flies and simply failed - all those little bumps and tugs that result in no fish make a lot more sense now.

It was good to fish with Chris, too. He takes his fishing very seriously and pays attention to every detail. He's getting ready to compete in nationals here in State College. He'll be staying with us Wed and Thursday nights this week while practicing. It should be good to see him and all the other professionals invade our home waters and show us how it's done. Or not?

Spent the night at our hotel bar with martinis, steak, good wine, and bourbon. Travel was a bit rough, but we made it. Porter is a little underweight so I'll take some time to nurse him back to his full strength. Looking forward to getting him back in shape and getting both of them in the woods.

Too many thoughts about this trip ending to do them justice now. Looking forward to processing some thoughts instead of just logging activities. Archery should be good for some quality thinking time.

Yampa, Steamboat Springs

Headed into town this morning and ate at a little Diner. We've been striking out on good food and this place was no exception. Hit the fly shop afterwards for some RS2s and jujus then drove to the Mt. Werner parking area and jumped in the stream. In town here, the stream looks small, but has some very deep holes and islands creating side channels every so often. We decided to walk downstream from the car and were both immediately untangling stuff, losing flies, and tying on new leaders. Sometimes you're just not operating at 100%.

Around the first bend, though, both Ben and I hooked into some nice rainbows - both on egg patterns. It slowed down a bit for a while and I decided to tie on a streamer and rip it through a long, slow, deep hole that bent around for a hundred yards or so. After a few minutes of stripping that egg-sucking leech through the water, BAM, a fish. A nice fish. Went on a few runs that peeled line from my reel. Ben came up to help net and that fish took off everytime Ben got close. Really nice to finally catch a nice fish on a streamer and really nice to catch a rainbow that big so early in the day. But that was it for the streamer activity. I stayed with it for about an hour, but Ben kept pulling in fish on his Czech nymph rig. I switched and immediately had two fish on, lost them. After regaining composure, I started paying attention a little more closely and pulled a few out of the same hole. The egg pattern kept working all day, so we barely changed it. I did find that a heavier front fly made keeping an eye on the leader a lot easier and also kept the leader tighter, making takes easier to feel/see. We basically walked downstream catching fish left and right. Sometime Ben was into them, sometimes I was. I don't think we had a double on the day, but damn close to it many times.

At the bottom of a slow run, I spooked a huge rainbow. It looked like he darted downstream right behind a rock, so I stood there and took a few casts into the seams behind. After a couple casts the leader took off and I, finally, landed a nice brown trout. We came out here looking for these bruiser fish and besides the two big ones I had on and lost, we've been at a loss to find many browns at all. It was nice to see the bright yellow belly, red spots, huge, predatory mouth. Another couple casts and I nicked into a big rainbow - maybe the same one? He took off like a rocket downstream, through a spillway and was gone as fast as he was on my line. Damn.

Ben and I split up and walked the side channels around an island that formed just below that hole. Ben walked quickly so while I was halfway down, he was coming back upstream on my side. We fished here for a while - I caught another brown, a few rainbows. We moved downstream and I took over a hole Ben had just left. I said, "You didn't catch anything out of here?" He said, "No, I know, it looks fishy..." I must have had a little more weight on than he, because within a few casts I had a rainbow on. He wasn't happy. He was about to get less happy. Two more casts and after a very subtle take, I raised my pole, felt a fish, and saw a huge, huge rainbow take off downstream. My initial reaction caused Ben to stop fishing and immediately walk upstream. Real big fish. Ben was downstream, net ready, and everytime that fish skirted him, he'd lean back, "Woah, man, he's huge!" He fought hard, but didn't cover much ground - we netted him just at the tail of the riffle I'd caught him in. Beautiful rainbow. I marked his length on my pole and took a few pictures before releasing him. Even as he swam away his size was impressive.

I was a bit shaken after that and took my time before starting to fish again. I divyed up the rest of my egg patterns - they were obviously killing. We worked a little further downstream before turning back toward the car. Ben hooked into a very, very nice rainbow on another side channel. Huge fish, but looked sickly as hell - gross web-like markings all over the fish. Hardly wanted to touch the damn thing. After a few more fish we decided to jump out and just b-line for the car. It had been a good day, the first where I didn't need a coat or a winter hat. 60 degrees and sunny. It would have been nice to end the day with some dry fly action, but a damn good day nonetheless.

Yampa tailwater

With reports of snow from back home - a lot of it - we had some of our best weather of the trip yesterday, although it started out threatening to rain. After hitting Steamboat Fly Fishers and getting semi-turned around we hit the Yampa tailwater, right below the dam. Immediately saw big, beautiful rainbows in the river and went to work. One small one on a 20bwo. Then riggged up a weighted nymph system to float flies to some lunkers stationed at the bottom of a hole - one finally took a pt soft hackle, 18. Nice fish. Then I really started to concentrate on the larger fish sipping the surface on the far bank. After a while, I finally found the best way to drift to them and pulled 4 out on a size 18, gray bwo pattern. Thick fish with experienced jaws and bright red colors. Found it odd some would fight like hell, others seemed to know the drill and came to the net with hardly an objection. I like the fighters. Ben was frustrated at the beginning of the day - me at the end. He was pulling fish out at the end of the day left and right with nymphs. I don't think I caught one fish using anything but dries and that soft hackle. I did hook a real nice one on size 10 egg sucking leech I was ripping through the spoil at the foot of the dam. Still didn't fight too hard, though.
Strange water. Small with constant flow, crystal clear, loaded with fish, vegetation in spots, and fisherman around every corner. Not the opening day type of crowds you see in PA, but probably 10 guys on a 200 yrd section of stream. Couldn't walk downstream past a huge rock outcrop so we were all fishing the same water. Fish were everywhere, but very selective. Scenery was amazing - tucked in this steep canyon with golden grass, yellow poplars, and dark green spruce and fir. All it was missing was some elk.
Spent the night in the Tug Boat playing arcade games and pool. Met some guy who used to live in Bethel, VT of all places. Rounds were bought and consumed. Woke this morning to a picture from Paul of a tree down in their back yard. Their trees are big, yard small. I hope everyone is ok. Glad I'm missing the ridiculousness of mid-October snow storms in PA.

Snake River

October, 13, 2009. Spent last night on Noah's "L" couch playing footsies with Ben all night. Woke up early and hit a coffee shop so Ben could finish some work before we hit the stream. Light rain met us through warmer weather. The guide called and said we should get there as soon as possible due to the morning warmth. Seemed like a good sign... As we loaded the boat and got ready to push off the sun was cracking through the clouds and we couldn't help but anticipate a good day on the river. The fat, double-humpy, streamer-size dry flies the guide "Boots" was tying on just got us down right giddy. As has been the case, our expectations were hardly met.

Ben and I had two fish on right away, I lost mine immediately and Ben lost his, a very nice cutthroat, after a long fight. I had another one on shortly after and, after a little fight, lost him, too. Damn. A few whitefish were caught. A couple small cutthroat, too. But most of the day was spent floating ridiculous dry flies down beautiful runs of water to no avail. The Tetons were shrouded in clouds, showers scattered the valley, and the water was gorgeous; steep runs dropping off into emerald green pools.

Finally, at the end of the day, we started to catch some fish. Ben landed a nice 18" cutthroat, I caught one slightly smaller on a size 18 parachute bwo. Interesting fish - save for the first fish ben hooked into, the fish we caught had very little color to most of their body. The exception were the fins, which had turned a bright red/orange for the fall, and the orange slits on the underside of the gills.

Kind of a disappointing day given our expectations at the start. Would have been nice to have a killer day on Ben's birthday and on such a famous river.

We left and drove down Rt191 to Rock Springs for the evening. "Swine flue" kept us from staying with David. Tomorrow we'll finish the drive to Steamboat and set up shop for the final days of the trip.