The Mighty Missouri

"I should like to have many houses beside many rivers, except that a man can only live in one house at a time. If he had many houses by many rivers, he would always be regretting the houses left empty and the rivers unwatched. -Roderick Haig-Brown

All of us have places that we leave behind, whether it be in our hearts or in our minds. I left behind many rivers, lakes, and creeks that I fell in love with in my youth. I learned to fish, and what fishing is: good days and bad days, some forgettable, and some can never be forgotten. Like women, sometimes we get lonesome and forget all the bad things about them, and pretty soon we have a romanticized princess in our minds. One visit can reminds us that it's far from the truth, and pretty soon we learn to keep the romanticized version alive indefinitely. Its much better than the alternative.

There is always a reason we leave, and a reason we stay. I don't know why people drift around from place to place, for me it was usually work or women. I was looking for a place that fit me, and not the contrary. Some places don't last long, some become a legend, and some become home.

I have chosen to make Montana my home, close to the Missouri River. If you have ever been here you probably know why. Like a lot of others I am not from here, because we have no choice where or to whom we are born, but we do have some control over where we end up. I have split a few lips to close mouths over this issue.

I was shaped by other rivers, but none so powerful as the Missouri. I think about the other ones from time to time, longing to fish perfect conditions. Like those princesses from the past, memories of the good times roll through my mind. The truth is, sometimes we have to pick one place to make our home. Even those with the means to have more than one house, on more than one river, can only have one "home."

Waiting on the rain

I have a lot of work to do, and not enough time to do it. The rain is holding things up. It has been coast-like here for the last week. We have had almost constant showers, which is very rare in a place that only gets about 11 inches of precipitation a year. It is much more common to see snow in July. The effects of the rain are worth it though, everything turns green. The mountains are about as pretty as they ever get right now, and the first two hot days of sunshine will spark all the wildflowers to bloom. The long winters in the mountains are worth it when summer finally shows its face.

North Idaho

Lena and I are heading back to North Idaho this weekend for a wedding. May has gone entirely too fast.

It feels like summer...

will actually make it to Montana this year. Every spring we have our doubts, today there is a chance of snow. My grass is starting to grow finally and some trees are in full blossom. The season of little sleep is upon me. It seems like I blink and the summer is over. I hope to enjoy it a little more this time.

Back in Boise

I am back in Boise for the weekend. I haven't been here for almost two years. I really enjoyed the drive down. The mountains are all still covered in snow up high, and the foothills are turning green, with mixed wildflowers starting to bloom. Purple is the dominant color, followed by yellow. The sage is in its brightest stage of the self titled color also, and quite fragrant. I look back on all those long drives across southern Idaho and Montana in awe. The scenery hasn't changed much and it overwhelms me with its nostalgic power. Through the cracked and bug spotted wind shield I can easily see that the only thing that has really changed is me.
On my drive I had much to think about: My family from my Mom down to my nieces and nephews, my upcoming chance to sell some trips, my last outing with the seven veterans on the Smith, but mostly my wife. My thoughts are almost entirely consumed by her. I smile genuinely knowing how lucky I am.
I passed many familiar places on the way in, places and events I hadn't thought about in years, and for a moment all the moments come back in a glimpse. Then they are gone. My gopher hunting spot where I spent many days with my buddies walking through the high desert, enjoying the uniqueness of the desert and the company of my pals. Roads I had driven, places I had pulled over to piss, even places I decided to spend the night.
My excitement rose as I rolled into Boise, looking over the rim into the city that sprawled out along the river. I looked at the capitol, the university, and downtown, quickly pondering all the places that have changed. I silently hope that everything hasn't changed. Sometimes it's nice to come back to a familiar town, especially one that cradled me through my college years. Those years are full of ups and downs in all aspects of life, even when your responsibilities are fractional to the life you live afterward. Bright green grass, yellow and pink tulips, and fully leaved trees beautifully anounce springs arrival. It almost feels like home, even though I know it isn't.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY JOSHUA

Happy birthday to my oldest brother Joshua Lee Phelps. Husband, father, and teacher. Thanks for teaching me so many things when we were kids, especially how to cuss. No Thanks for blaming me for the things you did, like peeing on Oma's toilet seat. Wish we were fishing on Hayden right now. Thanks for mostly being a good big brother. I love you. buddy.

Project Healing Waters

Sean Meadows. Tall, strong, dark features, Copenhagen smile, Country boy charm, thick georgia accent, strong handshake, prosthetic legs. This is how I see him now, I just call him Meadows. I first met Sean last year on the Smith River, walking a little wably down the bank by the river at Camp Baker. The first thing I noticed was gait, laboring to balance on the prosthetic poles. He hadn't had them long, told me right away he liked his old ones better. No embarrasment, no akwardness. I liked him immediately and invited him to fish with me. I sensed we had more incommon than just our taste in snuff. I thought of the challenges that lay ahead of us on the muddy sloping banks, slick rocks, and rain soaked campsites.
Sean had lost both legs "AK" or above the knee less than a year prior in Afghanistan. His humvee hit an IED and it shot the bottom armor plate toward the rear, shearing off both his legs. "I died four times on the table. I wasn't ready." Meadows was a combat controller in the Air Force, their version of special forces, when he got hit. He comes from Athens Georgia, and questions if there are any other colleges in the state. He can fish too.
The first day was better than I expected, Sean and I had a good time just chewing the fat in the boat. He was an avid bass fisherman, and a good listener. He caught lots of fish, and did it with ease and a smile. He was happy to share his "dip". When we got to camp, adversity reared its ugly head. Walking up the slippery bank, one of his prosthetics failed and broke off at the joint. Day one, four more to go. Pete, a fellow amputee,(Although you would never notice) was a veitnam vet from Maine, and handy to have around. In a few hours He and another guide fashioned a make shift prostetic sleeve from a pvc rod tube, duct tape, and a some screws. Sean had two prosthetics again, but one didn't bend. He wanted an allen wrench, which no one had, so he could take the prostetics off of the sleves and walk around on his stumps. He didn't like not being able to help in camp much worse than being immobilized.
The next two days he didn't move about much. On the third day he found his allen wrench, and took apart his expensive prosthetics so he could move around on the hard sleves that were molded to fit his stumps. Sean was a much happier camper. He was much more social, and always doing something to help out around camp. He worked just as hard and just as efficiently as anyone with normal legs. He is truly an inspiration. I watched him carry two heavy buckets up in the air above his waist as he walked across camp so they wouldn't drag on the ground. Never an excuse, never a complaint. Sean liked to joke, and understood and appreciated tough love. He told me he felt guilty that he couldn't help in camp much the first two and a half days. No excuses were made, none were offered. Just linear motion.
I am happy to call Sean Meadows my friend. I am happy I got the chance to give a little back to him, and the others who accompanied us on the trip. I leave for this years trip on thursday morning. Meadows changed my life, I hope I had a little impact on his as well. I wish Sean was going to be there this time too, but I am happy to make more new friends. We'll see.