Recent places: Lees Ferry/Marble Canyon "Float That Shit" ep.2 - Defying Death.

The tire blew. The tread, which had apparently spent the last couple hundred miles slowly detaching itself from the cap piles, belts, and carcass, slammed like a gunshot as it bent the bumper and dented the fender before flying to rest somewhere in the road; most likely to be tossed aside by a passing highway patrolman where it would live with its previously shorn brethren dotting the sides of Interstate 17.

We were thrown from the right lane across the passing lane and onto the sloped rock shoulder of the median. Marvin held the drift as the bed of the truck lost traction, sliding out to the left and down the hill at near 70mph. I tensed, gripping the armrest. Marvin, both hands on the wheel keeping the truck half on and half off the blacktop, said, "hold on" as polished steel front bumper ate a shoulder marker; its gray metal body and small white square reflective head disappearing under the truck with a thunk.

We lived a lifetime in that moment. The heavy rumble of the ruined tire, rocks pounding, thrown away and up into the undercarrage: chaos which seemed a stark contrast to the clear bright beauty of the morning seen through the windshield. In moments like this they say that your life flashes before your eyes. I cannot say that was the case in this instance. In fact, I am a little embarrassed and slightly concerned to tell you that the only thought that I can clearly remember thinking as we walked that gravitational and frictional tightrope was "this is going to make us late for fishing."

The tires still in contact with the pavement caught and the vehicle straightened out with a wobbly snap. Marvin steered the truck back across the lanes to the right shoulder and brought us to a stop where we surveyed the damage and swapped the tire with the spare in a rush; partly still twitchy as the last adrenaline was processed from out bodies, and partly because the backhaul up Marble Canyon left at 2:30, and our soft time cushion was diminishing by the minute. The job done, and with a quick still-alive-high-five, we continued out journey north with slightly raised levels of appreciation for just about everything. I ate the remainder of my subway sandwich as we talked loudly. It was abnormally delicious.

Discount tire in Flagstaf spit us out just in time to make it to the boat ramp at Lees Ferry as the CRD guide boats were loading people for backhaul. All was well and good.

Here are photos.

I can't be certain, but I think this may be Marvin retelling the tire story. Also, notice Marvin is wearing a had in this photo, which shortly after this image was taken blew off and sank, making him resort to wearing my spare buff the rest of the weekend. 

No hat.

People look cooler touching fish while wearing hats. Just sayin.

mmm tilt-shifty.

Buffalo wings at Vermillion Cliffs Lodge, after days of eating dehydrated food, are awe inspiring. 

-Alex who likes a little excitement now and again.

Lost count.

-Alex who reminds you to drink less if prone to spins during prolonged contemplation of the night sky.

This is where.

This is where the writing goes.

This is where I talk sunburnt shoulders and cold toes; about canyons and thin sky and clear water and sandstone rocks that fall and splash into the river at night and the cicadas that fall and splash into the river and get eaten by rainbow trouts.

This is where I talk about river backhauls with Holly the Hauler and bags of wine, rain and waterfalls, sandy tent floors and pan seared strip steaks, pontoons and five weights, sink tips with olive cone-head buggers, floating line with big black foam creatures; hoppers and droppers and stoppers and floppers.

This is where I talk about my father and my uncle, family and good times, learning and teaching and how important they all are.

This is where you look at pictures.

This is where I write -A.

Vermilion morning glory

Floated that shit.

Stuff to come.

For reals this time.

No bullshit.

Seriously.

-A

float that shit

This is a float, brother.

Pack that shit and get to the flowing river, brother.

What is that thing? You don't need that shit. Throw that shit out, brother.

You got some pants and a fly rod? Then you all good, brother.

What has two thumbs and pshops pre-float? This guy.

No, Brave Little Grater... this is no place for you, brother. We will get our quesadilla on hardcore when I get home, I promise.

-Alex who finally filled his Patagucci Black Holer duffel-n-stuffs.

Ferry Stuffs no.3 - Grill Pro Tip: Fire Placement.

Build the fire in your Weber to one side. This allows you to move your grill subjects around from direct to indirect heat, or hold done items to the side while you take care of other grilling. Use the addition of the top to "bake" when needed.

These T-Bones are just taking a little rest before dinner. Since the fire is still pretty hot, rest them bone-side toward the heat.

Tenderloins, marked over the heat then moved, finish up as the asparagus grill.

-Alex who wants to help you deliver the delicious.

Ferry Stuffs no.2 - those awesome carabiners.

Use them on your battle belts or waste packs while on the water to temporarily hold important things while you play with fishes, take photos, open beers, light things, do tai chi, or whatever it is you need both hands to accomplish. 

They are awesome and make you look cool and efficient and hardcore.

-Alex who who always wants to help.

Ferry Stuffs no.1 - The Video

-Alex white feet.