Fish On...The Next Generation

A tradition only matters if it's followers make it matter. Apple pie, football, Mom's potato salad are remembered because their essence means something more than the tangible act itself. That essence of tradition for me denotes comfort, healing, introspection, and re-charging on many important levels.  When it comes to fly-fishing, we have our own tradition amongst us Hegewald brothers: do a serious annual fly-fishing trip, some where, some how, some time, with whomever in the family can make it work. As far as I remember, this tradition started back in 2000 when me, Gordon, Zak, Kevin, and Bruce all went to southeast Alaska for one week to fish for sockeye, king, rainbows, grayling, dolly varden, and halibut. Oceans, streams, rivers were all our domain up in The Great White North, living out of a rented RV truck and eating Taco Bell at midnight in full sunlight.  What great memories of fishing with my favorite people in one of my favorite locations on earth - those were days of fishing nirvana "never to be forgotten." Seriously...

It was on this trip that "Fish On!" became the familiar battle cry of all of fishermen in the Hegewalds.

Fast forward to 2013. Our fishing tradition unfortunately has been thinning in it's enthusiasm for the past couple of years to say the least. It turns out that people really do age. It turns out that life really does get more complicated. It turns out that fishing does not, cannot, and probably should not remain a top "recreational priority" every year of our ever-changing life.  I was sad to see it begin to die. I really did not want to see it die. So I refused to let the Tradition of the Fly Fishing Brotherhood die. I would much rather act than be acted upon.  And with the next Generation of Hegewalds in town and budding in their fly-fishing skills, I decided to act to make something happen to keep the tradition alive.

I called up my 3 oldest nephews in Utah - Zak, Abe, and Josh - for a Friday afternoon fishing get-away. With some coaxing on Josh's part, negotiating on Zak and Abe's part, and schedule re-arranging on my part (sorry for the work delay boys), we could all eventually get away mid-day. We met up on the Lower Provo River with my brother in law and fine fly-fishing friend Bruce Gunther. The stretch of water is unofficially called The Bow Hole, named after all the rainbow trout that run through that 200-yard section of water.

Bruce had already been fishing for a few hours that day when we met up with him in The Bow Hole, and had done quite well with 5 landed fish. Those darn bankers have some nice flexibility built into their work schedules - I'm jealous... Here's a nice winter rainbow Bruce caught last time I was fishing with him in The Bow Hole, way back in 2010!

My action was fast and furious out of the gate: 5 fish on in 30 minutes. I don't have any validating pictures of those 5 fish however, since I was the primary camera man for the day and selfies are hard to do when fly-fishing! But I do have witnesses of the fishing success. :)

Zak then hooked up with a nice brown of his own. And we do have validating photos of this fish.

Zak was eager to try out his new underwater camera during the release of his Brown. I was skeptical on the picture, but it came out rather nicely...

After "de-rusting" his fly-fishing skills, my nephew Josh got into the fray. This was really impressive because Joshie doesn't get out much since he's a So Cal boy who prefers the surfboard at sea level to his fly rod in the Rockies. But he found his old groove soon enough.  He caught a healthy brown, with Zak providing light tackle and mentorship.

Abram was fighting with some major "rat nest" tangles, before he was back to his fly-fishing game. But kudos to him for perservering through all the knots and not giving up on the day. His endurance led him to the final fish of the day, caught just as we were literally packing up to leave for the day with only 2 minutes left before the mandatory "stop fishing" time. This picture shows how excited he was for his "buzzer beating" performance.

It was a memorable Fall day, riparian colors ablaze in the low-angle sunlight, with easy company on an uncrowded stretch of water. The trusted and proven Bow Hole continues to deliver fishing results...

...as the Next Generation could be heard clamoring "Fish On" just like their predecessors.

The Kessler Buffet

Most times on a back country ski tour, I have found there is a general theme to the adventure. It may  be a good hard sweat for 'the up', it may be elevation gained before 8 am, it may be beautiful summit panoramas, it may be dropping cliffs, and of course most skiers around here hope it will always be powder for 'the down'. On Saturday, I had a tour that was all of those things just mentioned -and more. The experience can best be described as a buffet adventure - something for everyone. Much like feasting at the Utah favorite Chuckarama, where "the choice is yours."

Tucked away in the heart of Big Cottonwood Canyon lies Kessler Peak. Although at 10,403 feet it certainly isn't the tallest peak of the Central Wasatch - not even joining company with the it's 11,000 foot big brothers that surround it -  I can unequivocally now say it is one of the prettiest summits for panorama views. I have often gazed longingly at this peak from a favorite dawn patrol mid-summit up Butler Fork.


Kessler Peak from  Butler Fork's Circle Awl overlook.

I know conservative, risk-averse back-country skiers look at this peak and see two distinct slide paths well-carved by the forces of mother nature over the years - Argenta to the right and Lawnmower to the left. They won't touch this peak. Other calculated, risk-willing skiers look at this peak and see both these runs as two of the most ideal natural runs one can find outside a resort: perfect pitch, few obstacles, north-facing, and long-running. On Saturday I was with Scott and Eric, two other skiers who felt the same way I did - given the conditions, the risks were minimal for taking on this peak.

Ever-prepared Scott sporting his head light in case his car lights lose juice.

The bottom was pretty thinly covered, but still provided great views as the light grew. 

Mount Raymond under a cobalt sky at first light

The upper ridge at dawn showed gorgeous views of Mineral Fork, Mill B, and Broads Forked stacked up one after another. Seeing these well-known drainages from this vantage point and this season was fascinating.



Views to the west: the 11,000+ siblings of Kessler: Dromedary, Sunrise, Twin.

Views to the south: Upper Cardiac and George's were skied out, as was Hidden Peak.  :)

A few minutes later, there was no higher ground to take - we realized we reached the summit. Most summits are wind-blown, cold, shifty, rocky outcroppings serving as temporary refuges at best. However, this particular summit proved to be surprisingly calm and quiet and covered. Magnificent 360 degree views on a clear day made us feel like we were truly in the heart of it all. We had to stay for a while to soak it all in. It was only right...

Scottie checking work e-mails from the top. Eric knew better...

Bottoms up with the gatorade.

The ski brotherhood was flowing. Even Dromedary peaked in on the pic.

Having gotten our fill of The Top, it was time for rewarding ourselves with the descent. Traversing the upper ridge from the summit to the top of Lawnmower brought us around some cliffs, across ever-shifting snow conditions, and an ominous battle-tested pine.





Kessler's high ridge traverse.



Contemplating a steep and deep intro to Lawnmower.

Finally we dropped in to the elusive Lawnmower run at as high a point as possible. The snow immediately softened and deepened, which caused us all to sigh relief that we wouldn't be skiing ice the whole way down. We had  worked too hard to find this place from this approach to now be skiing bombproof snow. So the fun really began.

Eric working the high shoulder.



Me getting too close for comfort with the camera man.



Scott exiting his shoot at high speeds in surprisingly soft snow.

One interesting occurrence was Scott getting a bit intimate with a small pine. He says he "fell into it", but I already know he's too good a skier for that to happen. I believe he had other intentions with that innocent and unsuspecting pine, but that's all I can say in public. Ask him for more details...



Rated PG-13: Scott + tree getting to know each other better.

Rated PG: Scott extracting himself...

This run just kept giving and giving, with consistent pitch and consistent snow for a few thousand vertical feet. In fact, Scott dropped a 20' cliff in the lower reaches of Lawnmower. We don't have any pics of that experience, but you'll just have to take our word for it.  The sad irony is the photographer rarely gets action pics of himself, as he's too busy selflessly filming everyone else. Sorry I failed you on that cliff Scott! Maybe we just need to get back up there and do it all again so I can capture your cliff-drop on film for submittal to Warren Miller.

The final chapter was the exit from Lawnmower back to the main road. Although we had dropped off two cars, we were having too much fun on the descent and didn't pay attention to how to get back over to Cardiff Fork road. So we ended up in no-man's land, along the banks of good old Big Cottonwood Creek, with no bridge to be found. It was inspiring to see this particular section of the creek that I fly-fish so often in the summer now engulfed by snow drifts over 7' deep at spots.


Seeking the shallowest river crossing possible.

Telemark boots + icey river rocks don't make for steady footing; so kudos to Eric for keeping dry during his crossing.

After the crossing, a short walk on the main road was all it took to get back to the parked car down at Argenta. Overall: a very memorable "adventure buffet" up on Kessler, as this peak truly had something for everyone.