Cooling off: Fly fishing in Big Cottonwood Canyon

(NOTE: The pictures in this post are best seen enlarged, and to save you the time it would take to enlarge them one by one, instead you can view all the pictures as a full screen slide show by clicking here.)


Late Sunday afternoon.
Weekend chores are done.
Time to keep our promise to ourselves: Every weekend go somewhere fun!
This time we loaded up the new car and drove 13 miles from our house, up to the Wasatch National Forest, through a place called Big Cottonwood Canyon.
Thunderheads are gathering in the distance, but the stream side temperatures were divinely cool.

We parked above this little waterfall.

Bernie headed upstream with his rod, while I headed downstream with my camera.
Let's see who gets the catch of the day!

They don't call it Cottonwood Canyon for nothing: the cottonwood trees are shedding huge cottony clump everywhere.

Pretty purple fleabane.

The sound and the darting dragonflies make the place marvelous to behold.

My new header shot.

A Darth Vader flower??

I found little fairy vignettes everywhere. There is a small green clad fairy figurine I am considering purchasing for a prop in these kind of shots.

Wonder what happened to him?

The wild roses smell wonderful.

Pink spires and pine spires...a fir tree color palate.

Another fairy grotto.

Tenacious wildflower blooming on a tiny island in the stream.

I think this is called monkey flower.

Reflections are great catches....

Sunshine back lighting lavender flowers...

The odd pod structure.....very Seussian.

A bird on a rock midstream. I wondered if he was a dipper...and would wade under the water. He didn't, but flew off instead.

Times when a tripod would have been nice. A slight sway of the breeze or my hand took the crystal focus away.

Funny how often there is a bug on a flower once you start noticing.

Add a flash...get a better look at the stamen.

Can't decide if it was out of focus or if it was just a soft velvety plant. It was pretty soft....

Things growing on rock interest me. How do they do it?

Bernie came downstream. He said he now remembers why fly fishing is a bit of work: he has already lost a couple of flies, tangled up, knotted his clippers and frozen his golf sandal clad feet.
This work is still FUN! And he keeps getting his cast back up to speed. After a twenty year respite from the sport a bit of a learning curve is to be expected.

This water is fresh off the snow clad mountains. He is wading in it basically barefooted.

So worth it!

Looking up at the cotton covered cottonwoods. I suppose the cotton would make great stuffing for pioneer pillows and mattresses. (We skipped the Pioneer Day activities. Way too hot for my sensibilities. Maybe we'll take it all in next years.)

Time to regroup. B. says he had a few nibbles. Good enough for a first time out.

We sit by the stream and enjoy the coolness and the sound of rushing water and birds.

I fish out an interesting rock from the stream.

A few feet from my chair is another fairy ground.

I'm happy. Tell me again: why on earth do I insist on doing mundane stuff like vacuuming and laundry on weekends instead of just heading up here?
More motivation to simplify my home!

While I photograph I usually look down and around. I looked up for a moment....

And saw this rising crescent moon.
Our cue to head back home as it was now almost nine at night.
(Amazingly I wore no bug spray and didn't get nipped even once, not even as darkness set in.)

At the base of the canyon the terrain is completely different.

And down there the evening shadows are just beginning to win over the day.