A little over a month ago my wife popped her Achilles tendon and brought our worlds to a screeching halt. Her climbing and training, done. I was acting nurse (no, that is nothing like playing doctor), homemaker, shopper, and everything in between. I was able to sneak away a few hours here and there for fishing in undesirable areas, under poor conditions. So when my wife started walking a bit without a crutch and mentioned that she wanted to get out of the house and go camping at Lone Rock Beach on Lake Powell, I jumped up loaded the truck with all of the essentials: Cuda 14, fishing poles, tackle bags, tent, dogs, cooler, and a bit of food. I made sure we got out of the house before minds were changed and two hours later we sitting on the beach enjoying the the view of the blue waters and rusty sandstone.
I only got to fish a few hours in the evening and a few in the morning and caught around 10 to 12 smallies. A few were pretty nice sized, most were small. After paddling back to camp in the morning we watched a big storm blow in across the desert and onto the water, it gave gave us a nice tail wind for the drive home. Just what the doctor ordered!