Ice Fishing

Over Christmas break weekend, my dad took us ice fishing up at Scofield Resevior. Neither Brad and I or my mom had ever been before, and were kind of excited to give it a try. We were suppose to meet my parents in Spanish Fork at 6:30am, meaning we'd have to wake up a little after 5:00 to get ready...needless to say, some of us were more excited than others. Brad woke up at 4:00am, tossing and turing, finally getting out of bed at quarter to 5:00 because he was so excited to go ice fishing. I couldn't help but laugh, he reminded me of a little kid who couldn't sleep waiting for Santa to arrive. (Only, he wasnt even THAT excited on Christmas itself, and this was just a fishing trip).

We headed to Scofield, which was a lot longer of a drive than any of us remembered it being, and set foot on the ice. It was freezing, especially with a cold crips wind blowing around. There were a lot more people than I had anticipated, and ice tents were set up almost mimicing little cities on the ice. My dad got a new tent last year that he was unable to use because Gary Coleman plowed into our truck making it so my dad couldnt take it fishing, so this year my mom and I got to have the pleasure of watching him put it up for the first time on the ice, with the help of Brad. It was one of the funniest things I've ever seen, and we were almost rolling in the snow laughing. They struggled and struggled with the tent, it folding in over the heads, and my mom's reply was "That tent is kicking your butt!" It truly was, and I thought I was going to die.

Once the tent was up we settled in for a good 2 hours or so of fishing, with not so much as a nibble from any fish the whole time. My mom and I had plenty of jokes about "ice holes" (yeah...we're mature) to keep us all entertained as we waited for the fish to bite, with no luck. Nevertheless, we had a great day enjoying each others company and a few laughs. Here are a few pics from our trip:

Our Christmas Tree Expedition (the novel edition)

First off, I'd like to apologize for this REALLY long post, but its mostly for journaling purposes, and for those of you who can bare to read all of it. It definitely was a memorable experience....

The past few years my parents have made it some-what of a tradition to get a tree permit and go pick and cut down our very own tree. In spirit of that tradition, Brad and I decided we wanted to do that this year as well, with it being our first Christmas together as a married couple. We had gone in years past with my parents, and always had a good time, and were excited again to go. I was in charge of getting the permits this year (which will probably be my last year of being in charge, needless to say). Thinking that it was the same area that we went to last year to cut, I got Brad & I and my parents tree permits for the Vernal area. When we received the permit and map of where we could cut a tree in the mail, we realized it was about 100 miles just to the cutting site, one way. Nevertheless we embarked on our journey to cut down our trees at 10:00am. I must mention that my recollection of our tree cutting adventure in years before was filled with lots of snow, and cold temperatures. So I bundled up, and I bundled up well, expecting the same conditions. I was decked out in 3 pairs of pants (one pair being thermals), 2 shirts, a coat, a beenie, 2 pairs of gloves and socks, and snow boots. (You'll find this attire to be a little over-kill later in the story.....) Anyways, all was well as we made our way to Price, heading out towards 9 Mile Canyon, but as we exited the freeway in Price for the turn off, we quickly found that our luck was beginning to go in another direction.

The truck began thumping and shaking pretty roughly. It felt as if it were coming from the driver's front side of the truck, where my dad had just replaced a tie-rod end. We pulled over to a gas station where my dad could take a look, and was unable to see anything wrong. With it being a Sunday, we were unable to find a shop open to take a look at the issue, and were a bit hesitant to continue on our journey with another 30-4o miles still yet to go to the cutting area. Lucky for us, there is a Walmart in Price (as much as I hate Walmart, and swear I'm never going back yet find myself there anyways, I was actually a little relieved to comee across one that day). Unable to do anyting with the truck, and not knowing exactly what the issue was to begin with, the Walmart tire shop suggested perhaps the noise and thumping was coming from a bushing, and it probably wasnt a huge deal. After a while of debating, we decided to continue on our journey to find a tree, figuring we had come that far already and wasn't turning back without some reward for our long drive. Once we hit the dirt road we could not tell the difference from the washboard road and the actual thumping of the truck. When finally arrived at our destination, 100 miles from home, we began searching for the perfect Christmas tree to take home, which was actually a little hard to do seeing how the trees in that area were not the big, full beautiful trees you find in the forest. We were in the Utah desert, not quite what I had imagined. Here is where my attire comes in to play....there was no snow. None, zero, zip,nada. The temp was at least a crisp 60 degrees or so, and I was dressed as if I were expecting the greatest snow storm of the century. Who woulda thought that there would be no snow & warm air well into December in the Utah desert?? I felt kind of dumb decked out in snow boots and a million layers, but hey, better safe than sorry right? Anyways, we found the "perfect tree" and decided to head back for home, this time going over to Duchesne and down past Strawberry resevoir and Heber expecting it to be a little be quicker with more paved road than dirt.

We were some-what right, yet it still took us forever to get home. Once we hit pavement we realized the truck was still thumping, especially when we would turn left. The max. speed we could travel was 50 mph, and if my dad went 1 mile per hour over we experienced intense shaking and I'm pretty sure at least some point during our trip home we each feared for our lives at least once. Making jokes and poking fun at our situation, we continued on our way at a mere 50 miles per hour....at 4:00pm with 100 miles to go still til we get home. Once we hit Starvation Resevoir or so my dad, in the midst of our joke making, said "Yeah, but this (meaning our situation and trip) is what makes memories!" and at that very moment the passenger front tire blew out veering us onto the shoulder of the road (and nearly scaring the crap out of my mom. literally). After calming down a bit, my dad and Brad began working on putting the spare tire on the truck only to find the spare was flat, and all we had to pump it up with was a little 250 psi pump, which took about a half an hour to inflate the tire itself. Upon changing the blown out tire and heading for home...again, we found that the shaking and thumping had stopped and all the while we had just been driving on a bad tire. We were so lucky that the blow out happened where it did, as we had driven at least 80 miles on a bad tire. We finally made it home about 8:00pm with our trees, 10 hours and 200 miles on the truck later, and lots of memories. Needless to say, I wont be in charge of picking the area to cut trees again, and we definitely wont forget our 2008 Christmas tree adventure.