Tuesday, February 28, 2012

Tying Bunny Leeches with Scarlet Begonias and Red Hook Pilsner

Hooks: bait models on clearance from Cabela's; $2.88 for pack of 25; size #1 extra wide gap; pretty strong.

Eyes: from River City Fly Shop, courtesy John Montana.

Rabbit fur: $4.96 for a big slobbery bag of chunks. Have to cut the strips yourself. But, $4.99 would otherwise get you one bag of zonker strips.

Beer: weekly craft of the month at Andy's.

Song: she wore scarlet begonias tucked into her curls

Purpose: to watch these flies pulse in clear water over rock and strip them by cruisers only to cause the lead carp in the pod to break off at a ninety intent on something.

Friday, February 17, 2012

February 6, 2012 Report: It ain't like the fishin's been easy

Why do you peck a keyboard all day?

Because I'm an ass.

Why do you drink so much on Friday night?

Because I peck at a keyboard all day. Why, what's it to you f**kin dick?

- anon

Year of Our Lord 2012 February 6 I figured I had it made. An open day. Obligations all accounted for prior. Figured it was all good. My plan was to walk in deep, to a reach that's tough to access. Fish upstream and then by estimation and use of a compass cut straight north and out by way of no trail. I walked in and down and kept walking down and down following the valley and no footprints; tracing path of water flowing downhill to the river. This worked. But I angled too much and popped onto the water at a place I knew. Only about 15 minutes from a road downstream. So I wasn't remote. 1030 AM this was. Started fishing upstream and immediately got a few fish to take nymphs; RBT and BNT. One nice one ate when I wasn't paying attention and thus he was moved but not cleanly hooked. This was all foreplay though, in anticipation of the sun and no wind in the afternoon. Uncertainty and the calling of schedule got the best of me though and around 1300 I could not tell just where I was so turned around, thinking I'd swing streamers until I saw fish rising to midges. Indeed the midges came and in no small numbers. But no fish rising. I had beer along and didn't drink it. I ate some oats and sand and drank some hot tea to wash it down. I sucked on pebbles and scraped my teeth on limestone rocks. I chewed on rocks. I though about swallowing a fish whole. But the fish did not rise to those midges. I saw water that made me think about spinning gear. Deep, dark water. Still water. I didn't fish it. I was moaning to myself and neglecting the grandeur of the valley in favor of self-pity. Of course it wasn't that dramatic but it was close. I walked all the way out without so much as hooking a fish. All flies and all fisherman failed. I got to the spot I came in by and noted the old pile of coon feces that was my bookmark. I followed my own tracks out. I saw those valley walls and thought about how high they towered there. It was pretty much completely quiet. When I came out and came to the upland the sun glinted off the #2 corn and hurt my eyes. I kind of spread my arms out and looked up at the sky like a sort of savior although I knew that was not right. I plodded out and found my car. There really isn't a fishing report other than sometimes you just won't catch much. And if you fish enough you find that to be acceptable.

Chimney Rock, Whitewater State Park, Driftless Area

Before there were county lines or legislative districts or people who would introduce bills to log black walnut from sacred land there was carved this valley. I figure the kids ought to climb up and look on it at least twice per year, even given that now they are older and exposed to more and more conventional things every day, they do in fact whine a bit and bitch and ask when we're going home.

Tuesday, February 07, 2012


You tell me what the hell the problem is here. Note date: plenty of time to get to CO. Postage paid in full. Copied the address from the fly swap announcement. Apparently "NSN" means NO SUCH NUMBER YOU F**KING IDIOT. So did I screw that up? Could be. I am middle-aged now and I notice I forget a lot of things and screw up daily.

What I'm saying here is that the damn fly swap LOD lot was thrown back at my ass by USPS. So I am out of one of the coolest fly swaps of all time. This is appropriately themed and matches the multi-faceted puzzlements I've been faced with lately. I've been looking around slowly and thinking to myself at best puzzling and at worst frustrating. So it all makes sense.