a full wknd.

saw the call
go out for
Cupcake fieldtrip to
super fun Lykens. My
Honest wknd warrior status
feels me lacking for the Sunday
pace. Not really in the head to
be the wait for me guy, so make
field trip north to Coburn hamlet
on Saturday instead. It was cold
overnight, probably not too good
for the fishin', pretty though..

Stop in at the Feathered Hook,
pick up some knick-knacks,
waggle some rods, oohh, ahhh.
Catch up, grab some flies and
hit the water, checkbook unscathed..
Hope for heat of the day lunchtime
activity, but water is flowing plenty
good, really good. Dose of sketchy
wading, sit down for lunch..

Feel lucky to actually flush one nice
trout from a bankside eddy. Tie on
a big bright Patriot dry just to stretch
the legs on the 6wt, cast a longish
line until the fly and guides are iced
up, and then bag it for the day.

Swing back into the Hook, and won't
even try to justify it, but walked out
with a new 5' one pc 3wt to add to
the quiver. Will be putting a similar
stick back onto the market soon...or
maybe some skis/touring bags/misc
gear, etc...stay tuned.

Sunday....here's proof that I do still
ride a bike. However, after scoping
out this stream, I bee lined the white
line macadam groove back to the
car to re-rig and get on that water.
Pedal strokes is pedal strokes right now...

Only found one willing playmate in
that realm today, a healthy, colorful
wild brown, what a nice fish, especially
on the new rod. Wish him well back into
the currents, back into one of the first
mtn Runs I'd ever fished, good times.

Can't wait for the temps to come up
just that little bit...feels a bit chilly yet.

on the surface

It's kinda neat, to get
back onto a favorite
stream, in a familiar
meadow.

Scope out the scene
while rigging up, eyes
and ears open for subtle
slurp...stand still long
enough, here a gulp,
turn in that direction
and maybe see a set of
expanding rings become
interlaced with the glassy
eddies...was that?

Watch some more, relax
and there it is a gain, sweet,
a trout on the feed. Tie on
something buggy and work
out the line. Finally get the
cast right and there's a little
splish where there was once
a fly. Set into an exuberant
little brown, maybe the size
of the rod grip, but count him.

First Letort brown of the year.


Change flies and dig out a
fly I tied probably 15yrs ago,
a particular olive pattern I've
never fished. Play the hunch,
re-rig and start watching again.


Within a couple minutes spot a
subtle rise up along the far bank.
Bit out of range, so figure to fish
my way up there. Working the near
bank along the way, miss another
smaller one, then get into a good
spot to work that next lie.

Make a bunch of casts, nothing.
Move a few steps upstream,
another handful of casts, nothing.
Then another rise right there, what?
Take another step or two upstream,
another cast or three, when just like
that, slurp.

..cool....

Tighten the line and realize this isn't
just another little youngster, this fish
has some body and a bit of fight to it.
A couple of nice jumps, then struggle
to keep him up out of the weeds. Short
time later, bring him to hand, a healthy
12"er, nice. Needed that.


Pretty stoked on the outing, ended up
with a long distance release of another
and missed a couple more on the take.
All in all, a decent evening on the water.

spring

itchin' to get on the water.
know of a stream that's good
to go during this 'closed season'
before official opening day.

a stream with native brookies
and a refreshing air. brought a
few to hand, a couple bigger
than the others.

missed on one of the most
beautiful rises I've ever seen,
to a Royal Coachman of all flies.
That made the day, then tinkered
with timed interval shutter snapping
with the newish camera..

encore!

moving pictures from the last day of schussing,
another fun season in the books!

winter reprise from WVski on Vimeo.

spring ride

45 minutes of Hero,
3hrs of Slum.
mmmmmmm, beer.

firepower.

chasing.

sort of a shitty, hectic, unappreciated
end to the work week.

get home and fight the demotivation.
throw the gear in the car.

boogy down the highway, hit the short
country roads and find a thankfully empty
streamside parking lot.

but has anybody been thru earlier?
twas a nice day out, and those wild
trouts will hide for a while.

rig up, forgo the waterproofing
and plan to fish from the bank,
speedier to the water that way.

pick a fly on a hunch, tie it on.
fish for a bit, finding the rythmn.

was that a car pulling in?
don't see nothin'.

swear I heard something, look again.

hrmmm, who's that? oh great, the local
WCO. is he gonna harass me about my
open beer?

well shit, it's Bobby, I know that dude
from back in that day...

'nice rod' he says, 'who built it?'

Jim Downes up in Coburn...we shoot
the shit, talking cane, give him lead
or two on a classic Leonard he's
might be sorta interested in.

Younger WCO partner..
"just checking liscences..."

yeah, its there on my pack,
I spin around...(please ignore the
open Two Hearted....)

Where ya from?
birthday?
yadda yadda, any luck?
yadda, yadda...

finally leave me alone.

The rainbow, the one that was
here in November, that I hooked
and broke off, that big fucker is
nowhwere to be seen. fish up
as far as I can go with dry feet.

switch to a streamer and start the
downstream swing back to the car.

work the pockets.
work the riffles.

into the flat water, work the far bank,
finally get into a groove, it's been a while.

sun is out of the air, feeling the chill.
roll that bugger towards that gnarly
overhanging tree...one cast, two cast.

and there it is...a damn big trout out of
hiding, chasing, following. oh, there are
those dormant adrenals, hello again.

sort thru the box, brown nymph, black
nymph, tangle and undo..damn fish is still
on the feed. undo another tangle, god I
suck at this. sun is gone, fingers numbing,
trying to thread a tippet in the waning light,
everthing a shade of gray, I hate contacts,
or I'm getting old. then try to add some weight....
is that damn fish even there anymore?

oh yeah, there he is.

back to a streamer, then back to some little
buggy thing...drop untold shot thru numb
fingers trying get some weight on the leader,
suddenly a fan of moldable tungsten.

change flies again, cast into the darkness?

nah, fuck it, it's dark, at least I got out
and learned where a big fish lies.
time to finish this beer, glad Bobby didn't
give me shit about that....only had the one.

damn, I needed that.
I love clean flowing water.

an affliction...

if you ever start fly fishing,
do yourself a favor and stay
away from bamboo rods.

don't ever cast one, don't
ever allow yourself to
fall under their spell.
because once you do...

I wonder how I can do
this, the damn things ain't
cheap, that's for sure.
But when you're not
budgeting all that dough
to chase number plated
glories, and the bike
frames are still under
warranty.

So, why the fuck not?

Why fish with mandralled
robotic autoclave plastique?
I don't ride plastique bikes,
why on Earth would I fish
plastic rods?

Those beautiful trouts,
their homes, deserve more
respect than that. From the
Earth, to the Earth. It's where
we come from, it's where we
eventually end up...well, at
least that's the plan for
this carcass. Who knows
where the energy goes...

May as well use a tool
that encompasses a bit
of love in its creation, rather
than cold machine made
spec'd out marketing profit
ploys.

One of these days, I'll hopefully
be building my own...but until then.

The latest addition, built by a
master in the '70s....damn she
throws a wonderfully smooth
line, can't wait to introduce her
to the Letort:




And a family photo,
serial digits are within
30 of each other, and the
wraps are even a match...if
I ever find their long lost 7' 4wt
sibling, does she even exist?

well, that'd be pretty sweet.


oh, have been pedaling the
Jabberfixy recently, Vista trail
is now a bit longer than before,
if you know where to look....