preface

Preface
After the long drive and long flight back to sweet home, I finally settled down my (not very well oxygenated) dizzy brain and digested all the excitements in my gut. I feel the blood start to flow back to the small brain from my shaking hands and pumping heart. It was a trip of life time, period. Not because the fishing is good, but, instead, is the spirit we are pursuing lead the trip into another level. We were doing something different than just family reunion, different than Provo fishing. Don’t get me wrong, I love Provo fishing, I absolutely love to fish with other people in a popular river. It more like walking in a night market, shopping in a mall, in a zoo, it’s crowded, but just because it is crowed, it make you concentrate even more on the friendships, relaxing and gathering all the thoughts that has been lost in the previous year. I guess fishing is a “excuse” in the Provo. That is always the way I collect myself in the western trip, either memories or new insights. This time, I have seen something different than before, so I will try not to do a laundry list report about my adventure. I will do a serious essay instead. A thought at a time.