Back to the grind

Despite our best efforts to get the boys to sleep in, Jack was tapping Donna on the end of the nose at 6:00 a.m. Tuesday and asking, “Is it time for our fishing trip yet?” Even the threat of great bodily injury wasn’t enough to make him go away for long. We eventually resigned ourselves to getting up and getting the ball rolling. The house was in the rear view mirror by 9:30 and we were on our way. We stopped in Bishop at Schat's Bakery for some lunch. If you haven’t visited this place you really don’t know what you’re missing. Schat’s has made me wonder if man might actually live on bread alone. They’ve got it all – Sheepherder bread, sourdough, garlic cheese bread, chili cheese bread (my personal favorite) and a host of other doughy goodies. Usually the place is packed but it was a Tuesday afternoon and we were 4 of about a dozen customers. I had a turkey sandwich that was a true work of art. After lunch we dropped our stuff at the condo in Mammoth and went out to drown some worms. The lakes that I usually fish are still iced over so we decided to give Convict Lake a try. We parked the truck and took a walk along the west edge and settled on a small opening in the bushes. Four rods were soaking within about 5 minutes. Within minutes of our arrival, the skies darkened and it began to rain. Not a lot of drops, but they were big, fat ones. But we’re fishermen er… fisherpeople, and we weren’t going to let a little rain chase us out. After 30 minutes or so we had one bumping my rod. I set the hook and stuck the rod in Joe’s hands. He reeled like crazy while I hollered, “Get the net!” With the benefit of hindsight, the net probably wasn’t really necessary. Joey held his prize and declared matter of factly, “He’s a whopper.” The rest of the evening proved to be fishless. We packed it in and headed back to the condo for some zzzz’s. The next morning found us back at Convict Lake. The fishing was s-l-o-w. But we had muffins and hot chocolate so it wasn’t a total loss. I had one fish nibbling my bait but I was distracted pouring Joe some hot chocolate. The fish pilfered my bait and was long gone before I could hook him. After that, nothin’. Not even a nibble. We theorized that our late arrival (6:45 am) ruined our chances so we packed up with the intention of returning early the following morning. Back to the condo for a snack and some swimming in the complex’s pool that was equal parts chlorine and water. After swimming we planned to go out for an early dinner. But before we could get out the door Joe began some enthusiastic whining and belly rubbing. A few moments later he blew some chunks. Maybe it was just the power of suggestion but I soon began feeling cruddy. So Donna took Jack into town while Joe & I lounged at the condo. Later that night brought more chunk-blowing by Joe so we scrapped the plans for an early rise the following day. The next morning found Joe still feeling lumpy so Jack and I jumped in the truck and went “exploring”. We went off-roading out into the sage flats and saw some deer. We went fishing in one of the streams. We went to the park and played on the swings. It was fun to give one boy all the attention. When we got back to the condo Joe had made a miraculous recovery. The boys colored while Donna & I lounged. We later took a trip into town and saw some of the local sights – The Rocky Mountain Chocolate Factory, Twin Lakes, Mammoth valley. Around 4:00 it was time to head out for an evening fishing excursion. This time we tried our luck at Crowley Lake. I had high hopes as I used to fish there many years ago with great success. We even went to my old spot. But the fishing gods frowned on us. No matter, the boys shot slingshots, we ate peanuts, we laughed, it was a great time. On the ride out I said, “Keep your eyes open, we might see some deer down here in the sage flats. This is where they winter.” With that Jack hollered, “I spied some deers. They’re right up there. They ran across the road.”I was doubtful, but we cruised up ahead and there they were. A whole herd of them. We snapped pictures. Lordy, why can’t I get this close to them during deer season?The next morning we rose at 4:30 and were back at Convict Lake by 5:00. I tried darn near everything in my tackle box to catch a fish for Jack, all to no avail. The lack of fish was wearing on me and I think Donna could tell. I really wanted the boys to catch some fish. But they didn’t seem all that phased by it. Instead, they entertained themselves by feeding peanuts to a chipmunk.

After another fruitless fishing trip we went back, packed up the condo, and headed over to Aunt Melissa & Uncle Mike’s condo (they blew into town the night before). Mike put together a grubbin’ breakfast for all of us. Then we jumped into the trucks for some fun. We went up to Rock Creek Lake (one of my favorite fishing lakes). It was still iced over so we hiked around and threw snow at each other. . Then we came down off the mountain and fed the fish at the Hot Creek hatchery. There are some real hogs in those broodstock ponds.
Next we stopped at the hot springs. I was too bushed to make the hike so Mike took the boys down into the valley to see them. To my amazement, my wife made the trip too. Back at the condo we decided that Donna & Melissa would go into town to shop while Mike, the boys & I went offroading. While we were loading into the truck I heard a loud thud and Mike holler. It didn’t sound good. And it wasn’t. My sister (who is 6+ months pregnant) had done a full gainer down the condo’s steps and landed on her chest. I do believe that it was one of the scariest events in recent memory. She was in quite a bit of pain so we called off the plans and brought her inside. I think everybody was wondering how Plankton had faired in the fall. Mike called Melissa’s sawbones who instructed her to go to the hospital & get checked out (just to be safe). The 90 minutes that they were gone was agonizing and full of prayer but she returned with a good report. Aside from the scrapes & bruises she was fine and Plankton was no worse for the wear. Maybe it was nerves over my sister or maybe it was a touch of Joe’s stomach bug but I felt lousy. Which was a shame because Mike braved a windy, rainy storm and grilled some steaks for dinner. That guy can cook. They ate steak & corn & salad. I had water & crackers. I was bitter.
The next morning dawned clear & sunny. So everybody decided to ride the gondola to the top of Mammoth Mountain. Except me. I have no desire to plunge 500 feet to my death when the cable breaks. But apparently they had a good time. While they tempted fate, I loaded the truck.

The ride home was nice. I stopped at Schat’s again for some goodies and then drove straight on through to the house. The boys slept most of the way

and I got to have uninterrupted conversation with Donna. All in all, a good trip.