I got tired of hearing the words "You hiked the Greenstone and didn't fish?". It looked like we were going to have decent weather for a change so we decided that the bush was as good a place to spend xmas as any.
We were getting ready when Cynthia found a note from our hosts wanting to know if we would like to be helicoptered into the upper Greenstone (they were at work)! But nooo.... Somebody I'm married to wanted to walk.
What Chuck sees...
What Cynthia sees...
The splendor of the Greenstone...
We spent xmas eve night in our tent at the Greenstone hut. We use the facilities, and the social opportunities, but still can't bring ourselves to join the European Union in the hut bunks at night. Something about listening to snoring with my head three feet away from a total stranger just doesn't do it for me.
Cynthia brought her xmas lights (thanks Rob/Michele) and I had to look at them flashing inside the tent for two nights. We hiked out on xmas day and never saw a soul. Note the xmas lights on C's backpack.
The wife is a little pack mule. She carried as much as I did and never once asked to rest before I collapsed.
Inside the hut:
Xmas eve day was probably the first perfect fishing day in the 3 months that we have been here, when we were actually able to fish. It took me a couple hours to figure out which fly they wanted. They turned their noses up at the one I was advised to use. Once I got it right, I hooked six and landed the two small ones. That's about the typical ratio on the Greenstone.
The water is so clear that you have to use a 3lb tippet in still water, and you can get away with a 5lb one in the riffles and glides. Unfortunately, I only had two of the right fly, and they took both of them away from me. They wouldn't even look at anything else.
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