Joy and I had an opportunity to go on a fishing trip in June 2014 and after some research we decided that Santa Catalina Island would offer a rich diversity of species in a new habitat that neither of us had ever fished. The kelp forests and cool water of…
After seven weeks in Belize, our extended travels in Central America were coming to an end. Joy and I crossed into Mexico at Chetumal, leaving Belize behind on October 21, 2012. We would fly back to the Minneapolis on the 26th. But first, we enjoyed a few days on Isla…
***Blog under construction*** ***Photos inserted as placeholders; Text forthcoming*** After about three weeks of the Barton Creek Outpost life we took a mini-vacation to Guatemala, where we visited the Mayan ruins of Tikal National Park and the quaint city of Flores, which sits on a small island in Lago Peten…
When the 4am alarm buzzes I feel no temptation to hit snooze. Not on a rare shark fishing day. Joy brews coffee, sizzles bacon and packs lunch while I load fishing gear into our Toyota Corolla. We gobble up our breakfast and hit the road. It’s dark outside but the…
Joy and I loaded the car with camping, fishing, and SCUBA diving gear on Saturday morning – December 10th, 2011. After handing in my last final exam of the grad school semester we were on our way! Florida is a place I had always dreamed of fishing, and we were…
David is tinkering with his boat when I pull into the gravel parking lot at Hills Landing. But we aren’t launching here, just making a stop at the bait shop and restaurant overlooking the canal connecting lakes Marion and Moultrie. We go inside and I can’t help but gawk at…
Sounds and smells from Chakapong Road invaded the street-level dining lounge of Sawasdee Khaosan Inn. Even at dawn the humid air was laden with vehicle exhaust and constant, bustling noise. A cacophony of tuk-tuks, tour buses and honking taxis drowned out the multilingual exchanges of Thais and tourists crowding the…
Fluffy willow seeds drift like snow through sultry summer air, alighting atop the chocolate-brown surface of Pickerel Slough. My once-white socks are sopping wet and an accretion of stinky black muck smothers my tennis shoes. Gnats swarm my face as I kneel in the spongy mud to rig up. To…
From the living room futon I groggily open my eyes and see Dad in the kitchen, making strong coffee under the dim yellow glow of the oven hood light. It is early, and it is dark and cold outside, but we are going ice fishing so I get up and…
Warm air wafts in through an open window, laden with the year’s first fresh smells of cut grass, the chirping of birds and the cheerful voices of children playing outside. It’s a t-shirt and shorts sort of day and I am buzzing with excitement to head to the river and…