Memorial Day Weekend @ Smith Mountain Lake

This last weekend my friends Mark, Earl, Sam, Adam, Anna, and I went to Smith Mountain Lake State Park for the weekend.

Friday, 22 May 2009

I got over to my friend Mark's joint at around 9 AM and we loaded my gear into his truck. Sam was easily convinced to come with us. Earl got off work at 11:30 or so and we met him at his place. After loading his gear and his brother Adam's gear and gathering Anna, we were on the road.

It was about a two hour trip. Not too bad, even with a couple of Google Maps induced fits of directional confusion. We set up the camp first and then headed out to Mango's Bar and Grill. It was a total tourist trap Jimmy Buffet-esque joint complete with totally mediocre food and overpriced drinks. The shot "Sex with a Catfish" is to be avoided at all costs!

I could see Mango's being a good choice for a family outing. There was putt-putt golf right there, an old-school video arcade, and some shops all situated right around Mango's. Mom and Dad could send the kiddies off to play putt-putt or video games or shop while they had a drink and enjoyed some music. Although the act they had for a big weekend like Memorial Day weekend was fucking terrible. The Breeze Boys. Two dudes in their late fourties with receeding hairlines, a karaoke machine, a bass guitar, and very little talent. They ended up driving us out of there early.

That was okay, we went back to camp and partied like a mahfukkah! I brought a bunch of homebrews (California Commons and Oaked Imperial Stout) and whiskey and store beer was also present. We ended up staying up real late and making a lot of noise. I mean, not a terrible ruckus, but we weren't exactly whispering.

Sam and Earl stayed up pretty late that night, annoying the hell out of the people in the campsite next to ours. I love hanging out with these guys... it's always a lot of laughs.

Saturday, 23 May 2009

We got up around 7 the next morning. I made breakfast - camp slop, what else? This time it was about a dozen eggs and a dozen sausage links, though.

After getting everything sorted out concerning the day, Earl, Mark, and I headed out to Parrot Cove Marina to get the boat. I felt kind of bad to leave Adam, Anna, and Sam out of our boat trip but we hadn't originally planned on them coming, so Mark rented the 17 footer. It turned out that the marina wasn't open until 8 anyways, so we were right on time, really.

A word of advice to anyone thinking of renting a boat to fish at Smith Mountain Lake: you're only going to get good evening and morning fishes in if you rent the boat for two days. All the marinas down there open at around 8 and close at around 6 or so. This means you can't get your boat until after the morning fishing is pretty much done and you have to return it just as evening fishing is heating up. It's a bit of a scam in that way.

That being said, we had a lot of fun, even with just having the boat one day. Being Memorial Day weekend, there was so much boat traffic that all the big fish in the main lake were driven down deep. We saw plenty of them on the fish finder - big fish down at 120 feet to 160 feet, but they weren't biting on anything.

We ended up hitting the coves and trying to find spots where there were no other boats. We'd cruise up in these quiet coves and cast under overhanging trees. Those were the only spots we found any action all day - either way up north in coves or in coves off the state park. I ended up getting the big fish for the day - a 17 or 18 inch catfish... probably around 2 lbs. It was good eating, too! Mark caught a small largemouth and then we all caught a bunch of tiny sunfish.

I even did a little flycasting from the boat. A lot of fun. It's really the only way to fly fish on a lake!

At around 4 or so, we cruised up into a cove in the State Park and called Sam. He answered and said he was just done with a shower. He took the path directly behind our campsite down to the water and there he was! We had successfully picked the right cove and everything. Earl ended up getting off the boat and Sam got on. We goofed around a bit more on the water and then took the boat back at around 5:30 or so.

Sunday, 25 May 2009

Not much on this day. We got up, brewed coffee, broke camp, and went to the White House Restaraunt for a good southern breakfast buffet. Simple and delicious - the selection consisted of biscuits and sausage gravy, sausages, bacon, french toast sticks, and scrambled eggs. That's it.

The waitress was very nice and asked us if we wanted eggs cooked any other way. I had mine over-medium. That, and some coffee hit the mutha-jumpin' spot.

After that we were on the road again - this time heading home.

A Weekend with the Conway River, pt 3

Sunday, 05 April 2009

I slept like crap Saturday night. I dragged my arse out of bed at about seven-thirty. Coffee and camp slop. Mountain Dew (Electric Hillbilly Piss). In short order I was bright eyed and bushy tailed. Amazing how brisk air right off the bat along with massive doses of caffeine will utterly eradicate the effects of a bad night's sleep.

As I broke down my tent and gear I discovered my camera. It was in the foot of my sleeping bag. Who the hell knows how it got there? The only thing I could figure is that I must have bent over in the tent to pick something up and the camera fell out onto the sleeping bag. I must have then inadvertantly kicked it into the foot of the sleeping bag.

We had only two cigarettes left and those were gone in short order. So after breaking camp we headed out. At the entrance to the RWMA, we pulled over and Earl turned on his cell phone. Beep! Beep! Blip, beep!

Civilization had officially reestablished its noose on our necks.

<HAL>"Dave, you were away, Dave. Where did you go? I missed you. You should never leave me like that, Dave."</HAL>

Can I get a what, what from my sci-fi nerds? In the house with a 2001, A Space Odyssey reference! Oh yeah, and toss in an HTML reference for good measure. Dork-tastic!

We went for the first store we saw, needing nicotine by this point. Wolftown Mercantile Country Store to the rescue! It seemed like a cool little Mom and Pop operation. There was a large iron firestove in the middle of the room around which tables were situated. Some old men were at the tables drinking coffee, eating biscuits (they smelled delicious!), and playing cards.

There was a variety of ammunition under the glass of the counter - 12, 20, and 410 gague shot and slugs, 22 ammo, some 7.62 and .308. There was more, but that was all I got a chance to read. A variety of hunting and fishing gear adorned the shelves alongside normal convenience store fare. The door outside had a placard proclaiming this establishment as a Game Check Station. Cool. A great resource for future trips.

The lady that walked up behind the counter was kind of uncool, though. She either had a permanent sneer affixed to her face or she was doing a terrible job concealing her contempt for Earl and me.

I guess we didn't exactly look like the locals, but damn! I'm a Virginia native from Barboursville - not exactly a metropolis. Didn't she read my Hillbilly Haiku? Sure, I live in Charlottesville now. Yeah, it's a college town and, yes, I work for the University. But it's not like I'm a Professor of Gay and Bisexual Studies or even a professor, for that matter!

Maybe she was just having a bad day...

A Weekend with the Conway River, pt 2

Saturday, 04 April 2009

I woke that morning at around nine o'clock to a very chilly 40 degrees. I got up, got dressed, and got motivated in short order. First thing was first - the GigaStove kicked out some boiling water quickly and coffee was set to brewing in my french press.

Next up was my patented "camp slop" breakfast. Cook up some sausage links, remove them from the pan, add butter and some whipped eggs, salt, pepper, cheese. I then cut up the links into bite-sized pieces and tossed them back in with the eggs. Cook and scramble them all up together. Voila - camp slop. Breakfast of Champions.

Earl and I ate breakfast and set about getting ready for a day of hiking and trout fishing. Here are some pics:

Earl sets up some bait

Earl and the Conway

Me all ready to go

Back at camp before we left

We spent about six hours or so hiking up and down the Conway River and casting into the few calm pools we could find. It had been raining on and off all week, so the river was up quite a bit. After the trip I looked into the Virginia website for Inland Game and Fisheries and found that we needed to go further up the river to find the trout. As it was, we hiked downstream from our camp.

Oh, well. It was nice to be out in Nature doing some fishing. Very Zen, very calming. We lost a lure and a hook/bobber set to branches and rocks. That's kind of par for the course for a day of fishing, though.

As we hiked along the river, we ran across a campsite that looked abandoned. It had an awesome rock firepit and there was even some cut firewood piled up. We decided to see if the place was still abandoned on our way back and then come back with the car for the firewood. I could easily make kindling from this stuff with my hatchet.

On the way back there was a family setting up for what looked like a picnic. We decided to come back towards dusk and see if they were still there. They were. Oh, well. We returned to our camp and began gathering firewood from the wooded slope just up from our camp.
We found plenty of firewood and even rolled a six foot cedar log down the hill. It was actually pretty dry. We used more cattail to start the fire, but this time used a three phase ignition system - cattail to trioxane bar to camp fuel. Fwoosh! Fire!

Sometime after we got back from our hike-n-fish, I went to grab my camera to snap a photo of something. I looked in my breast pocket, which is where I remembered putting the durned thing last. No dice. I patted myself down and then looked in my rucksack and tackle box. Shit!

I actually got a bit "panicked," thinking of the last place I used it on the hike. I remembered fishing from a large rock and having to cut my line after getting hung up on some rocks in the river. As I redid my line I snapped a photo of the river and put the camera down on the rock. I was almost certain I had picked it back up and placed it in my breast pocket. Crap! Had it fallen out at some point, maybe when I bent over to pick something up?

I gave up looking and decided that, on the way out, we'd have to stop by a few of our fishing spots and try to find it. It was about dinner time.

More brews, more grub, and some campfire hypnosis. We played Texas Hold 'Em since the wind had died down, but it was kinda silly since we didn't have any money or chips to bet with. Earl bet heavy and I always saw his "bet." Why the hell not? We followed that up with some War.

CONTINUED...

Camping Again

I'm going camping again this Saturday out in Barboursville. Me and one or two friends will be camping on my parents' property. Nothing fancy. It's supposed to be a little chilly - 31 degrees.

Camping Trip!

My brother and I went camping Monday night. We woke up to season's the first wintry precipitation at around 4 am Tuesday morning!

We built a stick wall and then draped an emergency thermal blanket over it. Once we lit the fire, standing where I am in this pic you could feel almost no heat from the fire!

I brought my small tent since it was supposed to be cold. We used an extra rainflap to create a little sheltered spot to the side of the tent for our gear and for a little extra insulation.

The beginnings of my brother's bean cassole.

Preheating the iron pan.

As the evening wore on, we broke into our homebrew IPA.

My brother huddling by the tent. My little propane camp stove is heating my brother's antique iron coffee percolator. It was the perfect size for two cups of coffee and it was the first cup of camp coffee I'd ever had without any grounds in it!

Camping, Shooting, and the Decline of America

A bit of a scattershot entry here, but what the hell?

• The Vice President of the United States admits to the world to authorizing torture
• Chrysler shuts down all plants for a month

Oh, God. We've really and objectively gone to hell in a handbasket.

In that spirit, I am going shooting with my brother and kids this weekend. A .45 or two, maybe a .357, and my .22 Ruger will be in the mix.

I'm trying to setup a camping trip with a couple of my brothers and maybe some friends for some time this winter. We'll probably camp on the back portion of my parents' property in Barboursville.

I really want to try out some of my camping gear which I just haven't gotten a chance to use yet.

"Camping" Weekend

Saturday morning my brother and I set out on a camping trip. We drove to the Shenandoah National Forest and arrived at the gatehouse at about 9.15 AM. We filed a backcountry camping permit and were on our merry way.

What a perfect day for a hike and camp, too! I'd guess the temperature was in the upper 60's. There was a nice breeze. The trail was mostly empty. We ran into a couple of people but it was pretty easy to get a sense of isolation out there. The trail is a beaten dirt and rock path along various ridges, really. There's no paving or landscaping on this trail.

My brother and I went off the trail at a few points. At times we were going up 70 degree inclines which made it feel more like climbing than hiking . We hiked this way for at least four miles, maybe four and a half or five. Oh yeah - the whole time we were carrying packs that weighed in at 65 lbs.

By one PM we were looking for a campsite. We found a spot off the trail, dug a fire pit, lined it with rocks, gathered and chopped firewood, cleared the site, and then began setting up the tent when tragedy struck. As we were attempting to setup the tent we realized that the poles were way too short. We had the wrong tent poles!

The last time I went camping, my other brother (or maybe my sister) collapsed the tents and packed them away. I'm betting that's when the poles got mixed up. Of the three tents I had the largest two. My brother's tent was smallest by far. Since I brought the middle sized tent with me this weekend and the poles we had were too small, I'm betting my poles are with my brother's tent.

So we were left with three options, as we saw them:

1. Build our own shelter
2. Sleep on the ground
3. Hike back

Option one we dismissed. The method of shelter construction I am most familiar with requires thatching materials and we were on the side of a forested mountain. Gathering enough material to construct a shelter whilst on a slope was not very appealing.

Option two was out since we knew there was a chance for rain that night. Option three is what we chose. But we couldn't leave before we had achieved some sort of victory. We decided that victory would take the form of a fire we'd start and then immediately put out. I mean we had already built a stone-lined fire pit and everything. We got the fire going after two tries (not bad!) and then thoroughly doused it and got on our way.

I can tell you this: what started as a camping trip turned into a Bataan Death March of a hiking trip. I am so out of shape it isn't funny. The way I looked at it was like this: I was carrying a 65 lb pack and about 80 extra pounds of ass. That's me carrying 145 lbs all over the mountain.

At two o'clock we hit the trail again. We stuck to the trail on the way back (after climbing a steep slope for 150 feet to find it again!). Since we had used most of my water to douse the fire we were on the lookout for water on the way back. We found a great little spring full of cold, fresh water bubbling right out of the side of the mountain. Oh, yeah! I cannot think of a time in my life when water was so cold, pure, and refreshing.

After recharging our water stocks we ground on. My right heel was really starting to hurt by the time we tried to pitch camp, so it was less than pleasant to hike the entire way back on a sore foot. I tried not to be too much of a pansy about it.

When we got back I was not mocked by my wife. I have to give her credit on that one. Thanks, hon. She did make a good point, though which made me think a lot. She said, "Maybe the Universe was testing you. Maybe you were supposed to build a shelter and tough it out."

Next time we will not bring a tent at all. The entire point next time will be to camp with the idea that we must construct shelter if we want it. I'll have to see if my brother will be into that. I think he will be.