October 12th, 2004

Trippin – that’s what the Buhr’s have been doing the last few weeks. Rhiannon is on a three week break from her crazy little munchkins in kindergarten so we decided to take the time to get away from the suburban flatlands of Southern California and head to the Sierras and Rockies. Seeing the mountains and standing in a trout stream always makes me lose sight of the ocean and warm weather and long for the tranquility of a more beautiful, slower reality. Although the trips presented some new challenges involving traveling with the newest Buhr, all went well, and sharing the experience with him was well worth the extra effort.

Mammoth: September 29th – October 3rd

We took the new Pilot on its first road trip and headed up to Mammoth with Rhiannon’s parents for some much need lay around and do nothing time. It’s a trip we’ve taken several times with the Sharps, but this would be the first trip with Landon, so all bets were off as to how it would compare to our previous journeys to the Eastern Sierra.

We arrived on Wednesday afternoon, and unloaded our pile of bags into our residence at Snow Creek (it is unbelievable how many bags it takes to get a 7 month old baby to the mountains). The place was great, it sat on the golf course with a tremendous view of Mammoth and the surrounding mountains. The fall leaves were exploding in yellows and reds and the air was crisp and fresh, and smelled as sweet as it always does. WE grubbed at the town Roberto’s which had gained a second story since my last visit to town, 12 long months ago. The margaritas and carne asada were awesome as always. Landon enjoyed his Cheerios and flirted with a little toddler named Chloe. It was great start to the vacation.

Thursday we awoke to cloudy skies and cold mountain air. I drove down to nearby Mammoth Creek to float some flies, and Rhiannon ran Landon down to meet me with the jogging stroller. Landon got a chance to check out a trout stream in the Eastern Sierra and unfortunately his Dad didn’t catch a trout to show him until after he left. I did manage a few trout that morning, and definitely hooked myself on how enjoyable fly fishing can be. By the time Rhiannon’s Dad and I visited the fly shop later that morning the dark clouds had opened up and dumped hail and large drain drops all over the town. Undeterred we headed down to Hot Creek for a few hours, hoping the clouds would bring out the Blue Winged Olives. The mayflies failed to make an appearance, but our trip ended with a sixteen inch rainbow coming tight on the end of my line after Grandpa Sharp basically forced me to fish this one last run before we left. It was the largest fish I’d pulled out of Hot Creek in a few years. That night be ordered pizza and spent time together at he cabin as a family.

The following morning found me and my father in law heading down for our annual trip to fish the middle fork of the San Joaquin River amidst a deluge of fall colors. As always the river and the scenery failed to disappoint and the trout cooperated as well. This valley in the shadow of the Minaret Peaks is one of my favorite places; I can’t wait to experience a camping trip with Landon and Rhiannon to this incredible valley. That night as we got ready for dinner, I moved for the first time with the rapid reflexes of a father protecting his son. Rhiannon left Landon on our bed and turned to leave the room to briefly grab something from the bathroom. Landon grabbed the opportunity to escape and scooted his way toward the edge of the bed. I turned just in time to see Landon tumble head first off the edge of the bed. I don’t know how I covered the four feet that separated me from the edge of the bed that quickly, but I managed to catch Landon literally inches before his head cracked the ground. He scraped his temple on the bed frame and cried a little, but other than the tears, he emerged unscathed. I felt so lucky and unsure how I had made the grab.

Saturday we took some early Christmas pictures, and played a round of golf that afternoon. That evening we had one of the best dinners I can remember at Whiskey Creek. Land is becoming quite an accomplished flirt as he had both the manager and our server smiling and cooing about what an adorable baby he was, he of course returned every smile with an even brighter two teethed grin.

Sunday was a long ride home, but Landon slept a good portion of the trip, we broke things up with a picnic in Lone Pine, and ended the day with a dinner with the Buhr Grandparents back in Irvine. It was good to be home but the trip definitely left me longing for more time in the mountains.

Utah: October 7th – 11th

We headed to airport on Thursday morning with a good deal of trepidation, unsure of how our plane ride would go with our now incredibly active son. Couple that with the ungodly amount of gear we decided we couldn’t be without for the trip, and we wondered if the plane would be able to get off the runway, let alone get us to our final destination of Salt Lake City where we would reunite with our good friends Nate and Melissa Reynolds who recently left SoCal to live in this northern Rocky State. The flight and the hour plus layover in Vegas were mercifully uneventful, thanks in part to our inclusion of a portable DVD player for the trip. At the slightest sign of activity or uneasiness from Landon and we would plop a little Baby Einstein directly in his line of sight and he would relax into an unblinking stare directed towards the puppets that danced in front of him on the small seven inch screen. That night we laughed and drank with Nate and Mel and enjoyed their hospitality in their recently purchased home with incredible mountains framing their backyard.

The next day Nate and I got a late start out to the Middle Provo River, and the girls and Landon headed off for some lunch and shopping in Park City. The Provo is one of my favorite places to fly fish, and this trip didn’t disappoint. The fall colors were incredible, the fish cooperative, and the knowing smiles shared with Nate about how lucky we were to share this unforgettable. That night we crashed at Melissa’s parent’s cabin in Brighton which is amazing in itself, but coupled with the Slater hospitality and we truly felt at home. We played some poker that night and went to sleep exhausted after a long day.

The following morning we had a great breakfast and shared some laughs over Landon’s futile attempts to crawl across the slippery hardwood floor in the kitchen. As always he was enamored with the Slater’s dogs, and desperately wanted to scoot up to play with them, but his attempts were thwarted by the slickly polished floor. His little booty covered feet could gain no purchase on the floor, so he was left to frustratingly push himself in circles around the floor. The lack of success failed to dampen his mood, as again he giggled the morning away.

I overheard Jim Slater talking to his eldest daughter on the phone, remarking what good parents Rhiannon and I were. It caught me off guard because more often than not I still struggle with the realization that I am a parent, let alone the possibility that I am succeeding at this alien task.

That afternoon we all headed back to the Provo for some continued fishing and time together. The wind whipped yellow leaves into a frenzy over the moving water creating an incredible visual spectacle, but a difficult fishing environment. I waded out with Landon into the middle of the river with Landon, and held him out so he could feel the river flow past his outstretched hands. His fascination was a memory I will hold tightly. Later after a few brown trout, we met back at the cabin and left a sleeping Landon to the supervision of the Slaters, while the four of us enjoyed a great dinned and a few bottles of wine at the local steakhouse in Brighton. That night, Landon awoke screaming around midnight much to this dismay of his parents. I’m still unsure whether he had a nightmare, or was upset to awake so far from the nearest trout stream, but after over an hour of begging and pleading from his parents he finally drifted off to sleep.

Sunday we headed back down the mountains to Salt Lake and spent the afternoon watching football with Landon, while the girls went shopping in town. We played some games that night, figured out when we might get together again, and mentally prepared ourselves for the long trip home. Our return flight was similar to the trip out complete with too much gear and soothing moments provided by the DVD player. I should also describe the fact that on our way into the Salt Lake terminal Rhiannon was flagged for a secondary search by security because her license had expired. What was frustrating about this experience was the fact that because Rhiannon carried Landon through the magical scanning metal detector arch he was forced into secondary with her, and was also subjected to a frisking and wanding completely confused by the whole experience. We made it home safely glad we went, but also glad to be home to our cave in Irvine.