… and why you may skip a few mortgage payments simply because everyone else is doing it you may want to lay in a couple extra given the circumstances.

Shifting graphite demand trends are driving prices for the flake variety to all-time highs, a fact not lost on investors or the companies scrambling to produce it. Market capitalizations are bouncing higher for companies across the board, from early stage explorers to others closer to actual production.

Investors’ burgeoning romance with the graphite industry follows another love affair with rare earth companies, key to technological innovations in components for vent fans, jet engines and laser-guided systems for smart bombs.

- via the Globe and Mail

With the graphite market at all time highs and increased use forecast across a multitude of industries, we’re sure to hear some rod maker claim how his prices are climbing exponentially and a thousand dollars isn’t near enough to break even …

… and were we to guess what it takes to build a typical fly rod given the current market, economic upheaval, a luxury industry, and a vendor trying to make up for a downturn in sales, will fact support such an outlandish claim?

The enthusiasm around Canadian graphite companies is almost palpable, and not for the first time. Many of the deposits being looked at today were already close to being put into production before they were shut down in the early 1990′s when No. 1 producer China raised output and prices fell to about $600 (U.S.) per tonne from more than $1,300 per tonne in the previous decade. Today, flaked graphite can fetch as much as $3,000 per tonne.

Cursory evidence (above) suggests raw graphite prices are in lockstep with rod prices. A Fenwick HMG rod in 1992 was between $250 and  $300, and in the 20 years since both the price of rods and the price of graphite per ton have increased five fold.

Guess-timate Portion, containing unsubstantiated obscene profits:

If we assume the amount of raw graphite needed to build a paper-backed sheet of graphite is about three times more than what lands on the paper (loss and compression in the manufacturing process) and the typical three ounce rod is half epoxy resin and half graphite scrim, then about 6 ounces of graphite will be needed to make a single rod.

A metric ton (tonne) is 2204 pounds (35,264 ounces), which based on the above rationale, will make 5877 graphite blanks. Based on today’s prices, the raw material costs of making the paper-backed scrim … is all of fifty-one cents.

In between them and us is a lot of folks screwing a lot of other folks.

… and a goodly amount of manual labor, regular capitalism, insurance, 401K’s and the overhead of a trained workforce.

“Forbidden” only because I’m tired of reporting how few are left, what’s in them that we (you and I) shouldn’t eat, and all the other reminders that we, (you and I), and those before us have kilt everything, ate what was tasty, and continue to piss on the rest …

It’s a lot like our system of politics, a truly great idea whose originators never envisioned being entrusted to the current crop of morons.

Instead of dwelling on “downer” issues that are classified forbidden, rather I’ll adopt the unpopular tone and make a “double negative” into something uplifting, something that adds a little verve to your stride, or makes the day seem less onerous …

… like an IGFA World Record Snakehead recently landed in Florida …

-via the Florida Sportsmen.com

On the one hand it’s an invasive and we don’t want it much, on the other, the sumbitch has big teeth, can warm a disc drag nicely, and after eating all the remaining pussy-native fish, will give us something to fish for once the sign says, “Don’t Eat Nothing From Here, Ever!”

You figure that we’ve not learned a damn thing despite all these gloomy stories, and therefore may be time to embrace some of these truly hardy interlopers as providing a much needed infusion of “extra-fit predacious DNA” into what little is left us by all them feminine hormones.

You spend millions on a campaign

A North Dakota man accused of introducing zebra mussels into a Minnesota lake last year has been fined $500 and ordered to pay $500 in restitution.

-via the Crookston Times

Invasive science has been more than eloquent. A foreign body can travel waterways at will, from your dirty little trickle to envelope both sides of the Rockies, can destroy native fisheries enroute to the Ocean, is able to breath air and is capable of impregnating your daughter, and for all these sins – for all the barren and scorched watershed  left in its wake, you pony up $500 – or twenty hours of community service …

Under the above circumstance, were California contemplating a felt ban – and with a new set of SIMM’s nearly the same price as the fine assayed, why would I ever consider adopting the righteous path?

Figure the average warden covers about one thousand square miles, and Einstein postulates that he can only exist in one place at a time, suggesting my chances of being caught are already nil, and with the penalty so low, it’s merely another “45 in a 35”, and the officer doesn’t show for court anyways …

Fear is the only motivational tool that’ll make us knot headed Outdoors types toe the straight & narrow. Seeing some fellow at the boat ramp  scrubbing goober off a dump truck load of cobble might give Mr. Dirty Boat Owner pause …

… especially when he finds out the sentence was, “…every weekend for the next decade …”

Just a five hundred dollar fine for an egregious bust suggests those agencies tasked with oversight are going to lose interest quickly, as five hundred covers about 20 minutes of the average stakeout …

Riddle me this, Batman … if state law says, “you drop a match in the woods and you’re responsible for the entire cost of suppressing the fire …” – why doesn’t a watershed-damaging invasive carry a similar penalty?

I’d think wage-garnishment for life would have me at the fly shop getting rubber boots and a double handful of prophylactics PDQ …

Cabela’s Incorporated, the World’s Foremost Outfitter® of hunting, fishing and outdoor gear, along with the Federation of Fly Fishers, announced today plans to offer industry-leading instruction for beginning fly anglers at 13 Cabela’s retail locations – and online – starting in May.

- via PRWeb.com

My take on all the SIMM’s drama suggests the big fly fishing vendors have cast their lot with the Big Box fellows already, they’re simply waiting for the right time to tell their “old girlfriends” they’ve had enough. But that’s okay, as we knew they were “for profit” companies and how loyalty, tradition, or sentiment, finds little purchase in the boardroom.

Earlier I’d heard Cabela’s was testing a new kind of mini-store, that smacked of the neighborhood variety, smaller sized to make inroads into smaller markets, the last bastion of the little shop.

Cabela’s Outpost stores, designed for efficiency, flexibility and convenience at around 40,000-square-feet, will open in markets with less than 250,000 people, bringing the same quality products and customer service for which Cabela’s is famous to hometown markets too small to support Cabela’s popular next-generation stores.

- via MarketWatch.com

(40,000 square feet is half their normal store size – KB)

Deep down I’d have to say our community essentially asked for this outcome. A fractured and contentious group, selling a luxury hobby into the face of Great Depression II, unwilling or unable to band together, leery of the Internet, change, and each other – until the big assed mean Dragon ate them all up …

At least it will give me someplace to wander through when Sweetpea is at Walmart …

I’ve always associated the “Liberal” tag as nothing more than describing someone that lives on the coast, or resides in a “blue” state – which pretty much amounts to the same thing …

An analysis of 36 years’ worth of polling data indicates that confidence in science as an institution has steadily declined among Americans who consider themselves conservatives, while confidence levels have been at steadier levels for other ideological groups.

-via MSNBC’s Cosmic Log

But after all the research is complete and opinion weighed, can we blame those untidy DNA fragments that emasculate our steelhead and salmon on us, the liberal menace?

Meaning, us liberals, and our unswerving devotion to science, are the root cause of fish hatcheries and therefore responsible for the “put and take” philosophy espoused by State and Federal wildlife agencies?

Say it ain’t so, Babe!

So what does this mean for the role of science in setting national policy? "In a political climate in which all sides do not share a basic trust in science, scientific evidence no longer is viewed as a politically neutral factor in judging whether a public policy is good or bad,"

Which explains why so much of the Science of late has been either Good or Bad, with little in between. Nor does it bode well for future efforts to set aside unspoiled pieces of Pristine, given those listening are ignoring a lot of the evidence and testimony, assuming it’s no longer impartial.

Hard times coming for conservation organizations, whose message will resonate with us coastal types, and simply be “more liberal BS” for the warm states.

… and after prostrating yourself numerous times and alienating spouse and progeny, you arrive many time zones distant with invasive species and jet lag, only to endure yet another cavity search and the impound of all your rubber soled shoes and any Scotch you brought …

… and rather than the bright cheerful smiles of indigenous natives you’re called “freeloader.”

The document noted that international anglers typically targeted remote backwaters more intensively and over longer periods than New Zealand anglers, but did no more to contribute to freshwater fisheries management.

Local anglers sometimes saw international anglers as freeloaders who were using an asset they have had no part in creating or maintaining, the report noted.

Seems to me they’ve omitted that part in all those travel articles espousing exotic locales and even rarer fish.

To add insult to injury, now that you’ve infested their island paradise with voracious man-eating diatoms, devalued their currency via wastrel economics and voodoo banking, insulted most of their womenfolk, and insisted on an umbrella on all your drinks, they’re going to jack up the cost of your fishing license as punishment.

Conservation Minister Kate Wilkinson today said she was considering a new fishing licence structure under which non-residents would pay higher licence fees than locals, as is common overseas.

I’d say you were lucky to get off so easily … if I was Minister of the Interior, I’d put you back on the plane after confiscating your fly rod, knowing you lacked the courtesy to wipe your feet before entering my country.

Screw tourism, if mitigating the after-effects of their fishing costs more than I can siphon from their wallet during their stay, they can dangle their unwashed footwear in my ocean, rather than my trout stream.

Bygones being bygones, if the federal government decides to test the value of recreational fishing to Massachusetts residents by offering random license holders a cash settlement in lieu of their fishing license, I shouldn’t complain. In short, the NOAA will pay up to $500 hard cash – if you promise not to wet a line the entire year.

… naturally I pondered that formula and realized us anglers have never seen fishing as a profit-driven tool, given how we learned it was a money-sink by the close of our first lesson …

Yet, ponder the concept … Statistically we go fishing nine times a year, and if we figure the costs for; room ($120), food ($65), gas ($120), tippet ($15), and obligatory dozen flies ($24), plus that extra ____ ($150) we bought that the wife doesn’t know about, our season is about $4500 per year.

Instead of that marriage-damaging debt-burden you get a handful of crisp new Benjamin Franklins to make a mortgage payment …

… which by my calculations is a tenfold return on your investment.

I’ll confess the topic had me wondering what my magic number would be, and in light of my jiffo-whip math above, how I might package that into a Pied-Piper pitch reminiscent of Bernie Madoff.  I could jettison the scissor business for financial counseling to bait fishermen, who we’ve always suspected of being weak-minded and therefore impressionable ..

That’s when I realized us Californian’s weren’t ask to participate because our numbers would astronomically high, and adjusted for inflation – and while our real estate might have tanked, our downfall was how our imagined collective self worth was in excess of the Federal Reserve …

In uninspired fashion, that poor soul looks for a couple of kids with an attention span long enough to get really bored, so thirty-seven old guys can lecture them on the proper way to hold their wrist.

Neatly removing “fun” from the proceedings, and ensuring the time spent with youth is completely unsuccessful, given that kids hate lectures – as do those of us tasked with delivering a stilted and balky sermon to an uncaring audience …

Kids are not interested in being around their parents, most are no longer drawn to the out of doors, nor do they seek the company of adults that really could care less – but feel obligated to pass onto them something that was passed to them by even older guys.

It’s time we thought outside the box …

Instead of kids, let’s take a cue from the North Dakota tourism bureau and recruit the gay angler.

Though the plan is still in its early stages, the bureau hopes to tap into the $70 billion market generated by the gay community.

The market is so big that websites like Orbitz and Travelocity have dedicated gay travel sections, and the visitor’s bureau wants to take advantage of that huge market.

Wait, Stop! … hear me out on this one …

Firstly, with all the clothing manufacturers jettisoning olive drab, tan, and the muted tones in favor of shirts, waders, and fishing vests of Marigold, Puce, Cinnamon, and Bubblegum, we’ve got a better uniform than grubby Dakotan Oil frackers …

Our Montana guides, He-Men all, wipe big handlebar mustaches on plaid sleeves, wearing bigger cowboy hats complete with real sweat stains, and could comprise the visual equivalent of Fleet Week to our gentler brethren, and we could increase that 70 Billion with fly shop pinups, calendars, and even some sell some Sage Hoodies, so long as we cut the sleeves off and make them more of a muscle-tee look.

… think muy malo … only hunkier.

The gay community has the proper monetary demographic, is well educated, and possesses the refined sensibilities to understand the innate beauty of the bamboo rod, the well tied fly, or the rakish cut to your waders …

As Outdoorsmen they would likely be cleaner than our unkempt variant, eager to embrace environmental issues, and likely would see scattered beer cans as unsightly, not hesitating to pack them out as we would.

… more importantly, they would add much needed intelligence quotient to our parking lot small talk, to fly shop staff, and add that smartly appointed, much needed professionalism to wader selection …

“ … excuse me, Sir, do you dress to the left, or to the right? …”

It’s said that politics makes strange bedfellows, this being an election year with the environment destined to lose to whatever creates jobs fastest, can we afford to overlook any articulate, passionate, and monied group of voters?

It’s time we overlooked our differences … Sweetpea …

This being a fly fishing blog, I don’t expect my readership knows a truly good woman nor a true Angel from Heaven was he to trip over one .. mostly because he’s preoccupied with “Miss UnderAge” in the line behind her.

On rare occasion even my caustic-prick-nature is struck speechless by the profound nature of someone else’s actions, and reserve this moment of admiration for a Mrs. Ellen VanOss …

Ellen believes she will lose her battle with cancer and asked Rongey to make the rod for her and surprised Jack with it at the end of January. It is an 8-foot-long fly fishing rod hand-crafted of split bamboo, inscribed with the Biblical reference Deuteronomy 31:6, where God guarantees he “will never leave you nor forsake you.” Ellen said she wants him to think of her every time he uses it after she’s gone.

Miss Ellen, there ain’t a dry eye in the house …

Occasionally it’s all a bit much

… and as you search for precious lifegiving moments of angling clarity, you mistake my wit for safe harbor, only to get both boots in your ample midsection as I lean in and whisper, “ … you’re right, we’re all doomed.”

But that’s later …

Now, it’s time to make Lemonade from all those Lemons, and if the lessons of Kesterson Refuge and all that stolen water, irrigation-induced selenium poisoning has got you concerned, fear not …

… if all the trout from this day forth are born with two heads, doesn’t that mean we’re twice as likely to get ate, they’ll eat twice as much and grow doubly big in half the time?

But when other federal scientists and some environmentalists learned of the two-headed brown trout, they raised a ruckus, which resulted in further scientific review that found the company’s research wanting.

- via the New York Times

I’m reminded of the time I spoke with that elderly couple bait fishing Rancho Seco’s former wastewater treatment area. Big signs proclaimed how Nature and Atomic Energy were like two peas in the same pod …

… and as I asked the elderly fellow would he eat his catch, he nodded sagely and said it was perfectly safe – just as a mallard swam by with a big growth on its head …