Major reconstructive knee surgery

I’ve had recurring injuries to my right knee over the last few years. I’ll twist the wrong way or put too much strain on it–then I buckle or fall down–and I’m limping for a week.

It’s keeping me from being as active as I want to be. I know I’ll never run again or play high impact sports like soccer or karate. Really, I just want to be able to hike into the backcountry and rock-hop my favorite trout streams.

I finally got serious about having it looked at. After numerous referrals and insurance company hoops to jump through I got an MRI done. The doctor did not have good news to report.

My right knee is really mangled. I have a weak/damaged ACL, torn cartilage, a bone spur underneath my knee cap, and a cyst. Wow. My doctor said that I need to take care of this now, or else I may not be able to walk in 10 years.

So what’s next? The easy ACL repair is not a good option. The Dr does not want to destabilize my knee further by repurposing my patellar tendon. So we have to use a harvested ACL. That means from a cadaver. So I have to wait for a really big guy, like myself, to die so I can have his ACL. Weird.

But it needs to be done. I’m looking at missing four weeks of work. Rehab will be many months. And it’s going to hurt–a lot.

I’m looking forward to being much more active again.

Palm Pre + Sprint + Pandora = Awesome

So I’m driving home from work tonight and I’m listening to some late night talk show host. He’s recalling a trip to Texas where he had a great time sampling the night life and BBQ’s. He mentions the name of a band that I’ve never heard before. He’s raving about them. I must hear this band.

But I’m driving home. What to do?

I grab my Palm Pre mobile phone and fire up the Pandora app. I punch in the name of the band (Band of Heathens). Within seconds I’m streaming music into my car stereo speakers. He’s right, these guys are good.

I drive the rest of the way home listening to my new music. I am happy. I love technology. I love Sprint. I love my Palm Pre. I love Pandora!

More mountains? Yes!

We moved to Manteca so we could spend more time in the mountains. So far this is all going according to plan. Since we moved out here we’ve been to Yosemite twice, Sonora Pass twice, Carson Pass once, and Ebbetts Pass once. We’ve camped in Yosemite and Hope Valley. We’ve done a lot of fishing–Yosemite, Sonora Pass, highways 4 and 88. Mission accomplished.

So this last Sunday we drove up highway 88 to Hope Valley. We’ve been dreaming about this place since we discovered it late last year. It’s 125 miles from Manteca. It’s full of our beloved granite rocks and pine trees. It has several places to camp. And it has a great little trout stream. It’s majestic. It’s just over the crest of the Sierras so it’s technically the eastern Sierras, Yum’s favorite side. And the PCT goes right through it. So it’s a very special place.

Yum and I camped Sunday night after a long drive and a very late evening of fishing (Yum was still fishing by moonlight). If I hadn’t mentioned bears, Yum might have fished until midnight. We had a great campfire and a quick bite to eat and were off to bed, snoozing before the witching hour.

The next morning we broke camp and drove a quick 25 miles to Minden/Gardnerville. It’s amazing how close Hope Valley is to this part of Nevada. One day Yum and I will live in the Minden area, and Hope Valley will be our playground. Anyway… after breakfast we started home. We decided to take highway 4.

I knew there would be lots of places to fish, and I was right. I must have stopped the car 3 or 4 times to get out and fly fish on the way home. It was a perfect afternoon, one that fly fishers dream about. My grasshopper patterns were killing. Every other cast was granting me a strike. The top water action was incredible. I’m surprised you didn’t hear me whoopin’ and hollerin’ way down here in the city! As the late afternoon became early evening I found myself in the middle of a hatch, and those hungry little trout would snap at anything. At one point, while I was wading upstream to the next riffle, I let my line drag behind me. A brave little brookie rose and took my fly. I wasn’t even looking! Magical.

Highway 4 was the long way home, but it was worth it. I’ve only been back in the city for two days and already I wish I were back in Hope Valley.

Here are some pics of highway 4.