Rerun (from January 2008)

I promise these reruns won't become more of a habit than they already are. Additions in [bracketed] italics.

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Before 2008 was even twelve hours old (Mountain Time) we fired up Ludwig and headed East on MT Hwy 200 to Brown's Lake to take part in what they say is some good ice fishing. It was clear and cold. Ludwig loves running in cold weather, once he gets warmed up, anyway. (I like to think that his cylinder heads temps on Winter trips like this barely make it into the 200ºs F.)

If I were still taking art classes I would say something about how I like the palette of this picture. But since I don't do that anymore, I'll say how it's pictures like this that remind me of how tenuous our grasp on the meager crust and razor-thin slice of atmosphere of this completely and numbingly indifferent planet really is. Ludwig is at center right.

The pictures above and below show how you do ice fishing. First, drill a hole through 14 inches of ice.

Then, as ice forms on your beard, fish through the hole while eating hashbrowns.

Next, watch the guy nearest you pull up a nice Rainbow Trout and go over to look at it. He wanted to take a picture of me with it, for some reason. Let me stress: I did not catch this fish. The guy was really nice though and gave me some pointers. I had several bites after that, but have yet to bag a fish [I have since.].

With barely six weeks to go until ushering our first kiddo into this vale of tears, Melissa was still sporting enough to overnight in Ludwig. How cold is the first night of the year at 4308'? Cold enough to freeze our gallon jug of water solid in eight hours. [We didn't look at the thermometer at the time, but the almanac shows nearby locations got to about 3º F that night. A little over a year later I slept in Ludwig when the overnight low was -13º F.] Apparently chicks that are preggers are self-sustaining furnaces though, as her only complaint didn't have to do with cold, but uncomfortable hips. Plus the little girlie sometimes keeps her awake with kicking. But cold? Nah.

Whoever thought up tire chains was a genius.

Our last couple-only camping trip for the foreseeable future. Happy 2008!

(miles 217,163-217,289←click for map)