the spoils

While us girls were living it up in BV, the boys were trekking through the mountains with the llamas and the dogs in pursuit of the Promised Land of High Mountain Fishing. My grandpa, dad and a crew of guys used to make this trip annually and my dad is trying to bring the tradition back.

From what I hear, boyweek was lighter on the chatting, heavier on the physical exertion and survival skills (6 miles up and freezing rain- no thank you!) and full of such things as cigar smoking and 100 gigantic fish (the 35 pounds of cutthroat that they packed down to share speak for themselves) and glowsticks (packed in by my cousin Sean, but enjoyed by the whole crew) and boy bonding. They were all so proud of their fishing prowess and ready to jump on board dad's efforts to make this a yearly affair... I'm thrilled that they had such a great time!