Crawdaddin'

Another trip to Utah last week to help Mike and Michelle and Dale and Elaine move. Lots of work . . . and lots of fun. We broke up the packing and moving with a windy day at Strawberry Reservoir on our annual (or at least attempted annual) crawdad fishing trip. Greg and I first went the first August we were married. I felt so confident when we arrived because I had equipped us with wire hangers and hot dogs. Hmmm . . . maybe that's why I never caught many at the lake growing up.

Thanks to the mercy of another group leaving, Greg and I ended up with 10 lines of twine attached to 10 raw chicken thighs . . . and as fast as we could pull the lines up and fling the crawdads to shore and into our bucket, we'd start over and haul in another load! So, needless to say, we don't show up with hangers and hot dogs anymore. Long lines with raw chicken are the ticket. I don't even love to eat the little buggers (although I will), but the experience is long anticipated and the are fun is fondly remembered.

Our total count this year: 815 . . . and we could've kept going! I think next years we'll go home after a couple hundred, as that seems to feed a crowd just as easily . . . and with much less work!

Greg and Rich bonding with the crawdaddies.

Thanks for the 4-wheeler rides, Uncle Mike!

Everyone had several chances to hold the critters . . . except Porter who wanted nothing more than to get his hands on one.

Greg, Rich and Mike: The nitty gritty cleaning. I helped . . . I swear. But I have to admit I wasn't too disappointed when called away to tend to the chilluns.