The other side of dad

By Brett Prettyman

 

My dad worked long hours doing construction while I was growing up. The limited time I did get to spend with him typically came while he was eating breakfast before rushing out the door before sunrise or grabbing a late dinner long after the sun set.

 

Watching my father work so hard was sometimes difficult. He was often tired and sometimes grumpy, but my brother and I understood why. I don’t remember him ever complaining about the extended workday or hard labor.

 

We looked forward to getting away to camp and fish at every opportunity, but for different reasons.

 

My father needed to get up early for a reason other than work and fishing was the best possible alternative. He needed a place to rest his body and clear his mind. That place was on public lands in Utah.

 

Camping and fishing on U.S. Forest Service lands along the Wasatch Front became a vital way of understanding who my father truly was and an important escape for my family from the daily grind.

 

We loved seeing my dad carting around a fishing creel instead of a tool belt. We saw how he interacted with other anglers and campers. Perhaps even more important, we saw what people thought of him in his most relaxed state.

 

This all happened on public lands, often within an hour of our home.

 

Of course, I had a deep love and profound pride for my dad before I began to study how others viewed him, but seeing him offer a complete stranger our last jar of salmon eggs so another family could catch fish had me beaming. An hour later we were in the truck headed back into town to pick up more because we still had another day of fishing planned. I always carried an extra jar of salmon eggs after that just in case I came across somebody who wasn’t catching fish.

 

My brother and I saw what a kind, generous and fun man my dad was on those trips. He wasn’t only that way on these trips - it was simply when we spent the most time with him around other people.

 

One of the most important things we inherited from my dad was his love of wild places. As young kids we didn’t venture too far up the canyons. We stayed in the developed campgrounds and caught as many planter trout as the law allowed. Many of those fish were offered to other campers for fresh trout dinner.

 

As we grew older my dad took us higher up the canyon. No developed campgrounds, fewer people and wild trout were the rewards. By the time I was old enough to get there on my own we were exploring the headwaters of those canyons. Catching introduced brook trout and native cutthroat was a special experience for my family and the many friends were introduced to our favorite places through the years.

 

We made all these precious memories for free on OUR Utah public lands. It is troubling think what my family and friends would have done instead if those places required a lofty membership fee, or even worse had been sold and were closed to the public.

 

How many families might be facing a future without OUR public lands?

 

Here’s to hoping we never have to ask the question.