Not sure if I can call this from my neck of the woods anymore, but it's a special place to me.
Many moons ago, my dad put me on the back of his '48 Panhead, and took me out of Phoenix on my first "long" motorcycle ride. We got off the bike in the little dirt parking lot, hung our helmets off the ape-hanger handlebars, and I looked around.
Ferns grew taller than Pa beneath towereing ponderosas, and a cool breeze whispered through the pines. A little herd of mule deer browsed on the slope above the vault toilets, the first time I'd seen such critters. I asked Rick if this was paradise, and he moved us up to Snowflake a few months later. While Snowflake was no paradise, if I climbed the hill behind the house, I could just about see it on a clear day.
Just out of frame of that photo, is the island, which is a 30ft tall hill right now. Water level is down nearly 50ft.
My mom and I used to sneak away to Black Canyon Lake to fish for Northern Pike, caught some real nice ones there. Not far away is where Travis Walton was abducted by aliens, near Turkey Spring, if you've ever seen the film "Fire in the Sky", that's the dude. I took my first elk about two miles from the lake, using my grandad's service revolver (S&W Model 69, N frame, 4in barrel, "The Trooper").
The Rodeo-Chedeski fire burned though the area in 2002. The fire crews drained the lake dipping out of it, and it's never recovered. The burn scar changed weather patterns, the glassed soil changed runoff habits, and despite the honest efforts of many, it's just never been the same. It's still one of my favorite places on the planet, with a lifetime of happy memories for me.
All the stich and glue plywood boats I built, from plans in the back of Outdoor Life Magazine, had their maiden voyage on that lake. My first wife, Josey and I rowed all around that lake on our wedding night, and consummated our marrige on the island. My Uncle Roy had a heart attack and passed away while fishing off the dam one summer evening, he was found the next day, with a smile on his face, and a trout on his line. I fish off his rock every time I get a line wet out there. My nephew Trevior Lee saved a little girl from drowning near the boat ramp when he was 14. And the list goes on.
Black Canyon Lake has been the gravitational center of my universe on many occasions. It's a place with a rich history for me personally. The water level has been in flux wildly for 20 years, but I can tell from the photo that fire season will be ROUGH out there this year. I hope my beloved Mogollon Rim isn't charred cinders a year from now.
@cory, there's the story you've been patient for. Every one of the moments I've referenced are obviously a story in and of themselves, but this is what you get for now.
I guess I needed to vent. Been thinking about dad a lot lately, and my adopted brother's shared screenshot put me deep in my feels. The old man was hard on me, hard as nails, but by Gods, I needed it, and he was always my biggest fan. I wish he was around to share in the glory I find myself bathed in, but I feel his presence and I miss him.
Lately I seem to be constantly reminded of the first time he came to one of my tree jobs.
He was bored, and needed a little extra cash to buy mom something nice for mothers day. It was 08, the year before I played patty-cake with the planet. I didn't have ground support at all, so when Papa called, I was kinda stoked. I gave him the address and said "all I really need you to do is keep my rope clear"
He showed up exactly 10 minutes early, but I was early myself and was about half way up the ponderosa, still, I could hear the Electra-Glide through my ear plugs.
I tied off my climb line and hollered, "Aye-up! Big Rig Rick, bout to start his first day off right, look at you all early and shit!"
He walked straight up to the tree, pinched my rope, and asked "Son, is this the rope I'm keeping cleared?"
"Yessir!"
He rolled half an inch of Sampson's finest between thumb and forefinger and asked, "Is this what's holding you up right now?"
"Yessir!"
He scowled at the rope for a second, looked up at me and said, "Son, this is what you do for a living. Don't you ever let anyone tell you that motorcycles are dangerous."
There ya go, bonus story lolz.
Maybe one of the mods can move this to a spot more appropriate, but right now, im hitting "Post Reply".
