The Interpreted Rock

By Stephen C. Schultz   “Old days - Good times I remember Fun days - Filled with simple pleasures Drive-in movies - Comic books and blue jeans Howdy Doody - Baseball cards and birthdays Take me back - To a world gone away Memories - Seem like yesterday” The first shadows of evening were starting to settle across the street. Summer was now in full swing and I was casually making my way to the corner filling station. I pulled to a four way stop and noticed what seemed to be a sister and her two brothers setting up a lemonade stand. It was obvious they had ridden their bike and scooters to the corner in hopes of making a little summertime spending money.   The pitcher of lemonade sat proudly on the table while the oldest brother made his way to the corner with a sign reading; “Fresh Lemonade – 25 Cents” Oh…the innocence of childhood! As I sat at the stop sign, drifting back to days of my childhood , the song “Old Days” by Chicago coincidentally played on the...

Guest Blogger By R. Conrad Schultz I don’t recall his age at the time.   Somewhere in that age of finding himself.   Still in the blush of innocense.   Maybe fourteen or fifteen.   He had acquired the art of tying dry flies.   Something that takes patience and perseverance.   Actually quite good at all types of flies, he mastered the Adams.   Beautiful tail and body.   Seldom did he put on a palmer hackle but the shoulder hackle was just about perfect.   The wings consisting of the ends of the hackle were always pert and upright. For some reason that has been lost in the annals of time Bill Spangler and I had acquired a gold mine.   I know, sounds preposterous.   Well it was.   We had to travel to John Day and then Canyon City to prove our claim.   Wasn’t much but exploring the area and clearing a little of the road. Jared went along and we all had our fly rods in the back of the rig. Somewhere in the deser...

By Stephen C. Schultz   The dull roar was everywhere. It penetrated your soul to the core. It was immediate and unmistakable as I got out of the car. It had been a while since I had visited this particular location. I happened to be in Oregon with a colleague and partner, Shawn Brooks . We were scheduled to present the next day at the Northwest Regional NATSAP conference in Bend, Oregon. Shawn exited the car, stretched and looked around. The thunderous sound and thick humid air surrounded us. Shawn immediately said, “Is that the falls?”   Sahalie Falls is one of those places that truly demonstrate the majesty of nature. There is a “peace” amongst the raw power and force of the water as it cascades over the falls. As I stood on the trail mesmerized by the turquoise blue water and emerald green ferns along the bank, I realized that the “peace” I was sensing was a “peace” that resounded deeply in my soul. It was a “peace” of familiarity, a “peace” that was born of h...