Yesterday Matt and I played hooky for the first half of the day and went fishing. We tried a new area of the Deschutes that we hadn’t fished yet. Beautiful country, as usual, for out here. As a novice fly fisherman, yesterday was my first solo day. Solo in that Matt refused to help me tie stuff anymore, I’m on my own now. So, it took me a good 15 minutes of getting my line setup, about twice the time it took Matt. But, I did finally figure out the knot for tying the tippet (sp?) line onto the leader. Then tied the fly (I usaully do this this but had difficulty trying to learn the line to line tie.) After no luck where we started, Matt and I ventured up stream. Trying to find some rising fish but to little avail. After about a half mile and an hour of checking out different spots I ventured down the hill to see what was behind some thickets. It looked like a good spot, a little deeper water that slowed after some good rock overflow. I scoped things out and tried to figure out what fly might work best. After seeing some flies floating above the river and some skipping along the surface and decided to make a change and picked the closest fly from my fly box to what I was seeing. I’m still new at the terminology so can’t say exactly which fly I used. Just after I got rig setup I saw a fish surface on the opposite river bank. I wistled to Matt, who was upstream, to indicate that I saw something surface and this could be a good spot. He made his way down as I started casting into the general area I saw the fish surface. Snap, the fish rose again and took my fly. Fish On! I was so excited. Matt was working his way toward me trying to get his net free as he approached. I kept the rod tall and pull the excess line in bringing the fish toward me. The trout got hung up on some brush coming off a boulder just below the surface. I was getting a little nervous as you can’t count a fish until you have it in hand. Matt was struggling to get hsi net free and I was tenderly trying to work the fish free and bring him closer. I was at the end of the line and now needed to reach out to grab the taught line and bring the fish toward me, Matt and the net weren’t going to make it in time. Pop! the line snapped loose and the fish was gone. Exhale… What a bummer, a good size fish, the first strike of the day, and I couldn’t bring him in. Never-the-less, it was a breakthrough for me. I tied and rigged my own gear, scoped out the river for the best spot, chose my own fly, and hooked up the first fish of the day. A bit proud of myself.

Matt started fishing the area and switched to stonefly and started pulling them in left and right. My striked went dead. I tried a stone fly but didn’t have any luck. I went back to a fly and did hook up and bring to hand one fish. It was all of 3 inches long . Oh well, at least I wasn’t skunked and I did hook up a couple off a dry fly. All in all a good day of fishing.

Dog Run
Was supposed to ride, but decided since I had access to matt’s car, that I’d take Streatley to the trails for a run. Not having a car has been more of a burden on Streatley than me. And since Matt hasn’t been able to run due to his foot injury, Streatley and I are a bit bound to running from the house. Streatley, however, isn’t very good running on a leash. He’s a bird dog and loves to zig and zag and sniff out the birds. so running with him his best off leash and in the hills.

I jetted up the street and we went on a good 45 minute run through the trails. Streatly had a blast and was good and exhausted by the end. The trails are looking good, saw a few mountain bikers out and about.

LvSD Bike
Today I decided I was going to push myself on the bike. The distance/time that is, not effort. So I went out on my Long very Slow Distance bike ride. I stuck to my plan and route. The route was an out and back to assure I wouldn’t be tempted to cut it short. Out to Surprise Valley, about 39 miles out. The pavement ends at the 39 mile mark after a good descent. So that was the turn-around. Headed back up the climb and was feeling pretty good. Around 55 miles I started heading into the wind and things got very slow, not so much due to the winds being bad, they were’nt, really just a slight a head wind. But, after 55 miles and a couple decent climbs my legs were getting a little fatigued. I recouped a bit after turning and moving the wind the my side. That only lasted 5 miles or so, then it was another turn back into the wind for the last 12-15 miles home.

I was happy for most of the ride, excited I was going to put in the longest ride yet - shooting for 5 hours. But my duration success was dampened by the ridiculous decline in average speed over the last two hours of the ride. My neck, lower back, and butt were getting so tight, sore, and fatigued it was difficult to stay in a good cadence and maintain momentum. i had to get out of the saddle and move around often trying to offset my discomfort. This brought my average speed ridiculously low. Let’s just say Matt rode just under 5 hours and managed to put in 25 more miles than I.

I did the 5 hours so I’m building up my time in the saddle and distance I suppose, but I feel like the last hour shouldn’t even count I was going so slow and so frustrated. With brothers so strong on the bike, I don’t understand why I suck so bad. It’s definitely more work ethic than genetics.

Patience and persistence my friend. Keep at it and the eventually it will all click and maybe a sub 7 hour Ironman ride will be a possibility