I had cork in my hand, the creek was a river – and hip boots weren’t enough to get me to the other bank.

Unsettled flood gravel gives no purchase when fording, and the water’s pressure merely drives you and the pile of gravel downriver without regard to how the cleats bite or the frantic tap-tap-tap of a wading staff.

I was content. A winter worth of couch pupation had birthed the awkward predator – the young lion, clumsy and unsure of footing and every disturbance an excuse for the stalk and pounce, yielding only dry leaves and dandelions, adventure of a sort as the den and safety only a few feet distant.

The river hosts a single green frog.

The insects are largely absent, many perished during the drought and those remaining were hunkered down for Spring. Cracks in the clay banks yielded small scuds and water fleas and little else.

The beaver dams are gone, but they served their purpose. Alder shoots driven flat by flood are starting to emerge from the matted grasses and sticks cast onto the bank by receding water – prime forage for beaver and the multitude of muddy tracks and gnawed ends suggested a few survivors.

I added a single green wing teal to my collection – the outdoor’s equivalent of dumpster diving, as everything manmade eventually becomes entangled in a root ball. This year was mighty slim as the scour was thorough and even the ever-present water bottles were gone.

I was content to throw experimentals at imaginary steelhead lies – or dangling them in the current to see their posture. Scouting via long line – as the far bank was inaccessible to foot traffic.

With the first week of dry weather scheduled, I expect flows will begin to dwindle and allow me a little elevation and ability to see whether any fish remain. Until then my fishing is reduced to out of practice, out of shape, and out of luck – old friends in our annual Spring purgatory.

Tags: Little Stinking, spring flood, green wing teal, spring purgatory, fishless fishing

As a purely fact finding exercise I’ve extended the Czech style to all the major food groups, using a leavening of black and copper in the colorful attractor role. The effect is quite good, as shown below.

I’ve got my muse back. She’s deep green and completely rebuilt from dam to sewer pipe, and her 2010 christening befits flies that have never graced anything save imagination – as there’s no sign of life in her adorable semi-cleansed bosom.

Drained dry in August 2009, reborn under the damp umbrella of four weeks of steady rain, no fish of any kind visible – and requiring us to start the horrid transition from flaccid winter form to the lean – hard – Whippet of Spring …

… miles of water and no telling what we’ll step in.

We’ve cracked out the stretchable elastic and felt pens, and dangled plenty of Czech samples in the creek, and everything Czech rides upside down. We’ll counter with our colorful stuff tied to ride proper, as it’ll have to account for the magnetic interference of submerged farm machinery.

We’ve got lemon yellow’s and orange-orange’s, all infused with massive amounts of the basic attractor blends, featuring claret and golden yellow- with black highlights and copper flash.

In short, while we don’t expect to see a fish, we’ll be the best dressed – most equipped, panting fat guy on the watershed this weekend. NFL athletes drag tires to get in shape – I’ll be dragging the entire fly tying desk hoping to lose the spare tire …

Tags: Little Stinking, brownlining, the rebirth of a stream, Czech nymphs, mayflies,

Small shards of humor are

It being Winter and tired of the steady onslaught of pending litigation, decline in fisheries, and coupled with knowledge that the Golden Years appear to have been replaced by the Golden Shower, I’m looking for something light and irreverent for a change.

##### Lodge at the ### River offers a top-notch dining experience, featuring dishes such as wasabi and sesame crusted halibut filet with a ginger miso vin blanc or pepper-rubbed grilled lamb loin medallions with a fresh California bing cherry compote. It has its own private-label wines as well, grown, produced and bottled in San Luis Obispo, Calif.

Fairly staid, traditionalist approach. Ascots and Port on the verandah, liveried servants serving fish to an above average clientele who’ve been lectured all day on why they can’t keep any …

We’ve endured a couple hundred years of the above – does the downturn in the economy imply fermented soy beans are the new frugal ?

…  arrested three Mexican nationals and seized more than 1,300 pounds of marijuana off a fishing vessel near the northern end of South Padre Island Sunday ..

Then again, this expedition sounds like the more active, predatory angling experience, featuring sunburns and the New Age outdoorsman. Camouflage, night vision goggles, and extreme something or other – cottonmouth most likely.

Care to guess which one has the Orvis endorsement?

… and while the cloying effects of Nyquil are still an aftertaste, did I read it correctly that the Alaskan Trout Unlimited organization is praising Target for removing farmed Salmon from the shelves and replacing it with wild Alaskan fish?

“We want to market Bristol Bay salmon so it is as well-known as Copper River salmon,” said Paula Dobbyn,” spokeswoman for TU in Alaska. “

It’s the first time I’ve seen a conservation organization insisting we kill and eat the last remaining wild Salmon run in the US. Conventional conservation practices reborn under heat lamps and all you can eat.

It begs the question, how many Harvard-educated hedge fund managers did it take to dream up this humdinger. I suppose that once we’ve eaten them all we can buy Salmon Credit swaps – redeemable at the Pebble mine office …

… and if that salmon was hatchery bred (as are 80% of the Pacific Salmon in the lower 48) will it get an asterisk on the label?

A renewable resource isn’t  – until we’ve shown the proper restraint for fifty years and there’s still some left. Politicians claim it to be so, scientists pound the table as fact, industry gives us a wide toothy smile, but the only renewable resource on the planet is hunger.

Tags: Alaska TU, Target, Harvard educated, salmon credit swap, bristol bay salmon, pebble mine, Orvis

With the promise of but a single day of sunshine between storms and with most of next season’s flies already completed, I had a fast closing window of opportunity, and took it.

Some prefer soaking in pricey venues with mud bathes and mineral springs, instead I uncrated all of my wading finery to launder – in the soothing and heated waters of an atomic forebay. Proofing me of New Zealand Mud Snails, Mussels, Asian Carp spawn and anything else that climbed aboard unnoticed.

It’s the root of my immunity to the lingering pestilence of brown water, how I can tighten knots with my teeth and expose my soft posterior to flesh eating disease, Ecoli, and submerged barbed wire.

… and now you know. The white blotches in the above photo testimony of the relentlessness of excited electrons that find the smallest recesses in felt soles and laced uppers – leaving enough residual radiation to keep the surfaces sterile for the season.

… ditto for me. I’m content with someone else’s bloodline relieving your darling of his lunch money.

Kelvin and I hopped fence and spent the afternoon lolling in the steaming current. Me testing how many kilorads Marabou can withstand before losing its supple, and Kelvin watching the waterline of his float tube until the seam actually blew.

We managed only a single fish between us, shown above … It started as a Rainbow trout, but like most of the larger fish, loses it’s genetic distinctness after the m-RNA becomes corrupt.

Sun on my cheek, something I haven’t felt in many weeks, and won’t (hopefully) for many more.

Tags: fly fishing, nuclear power plant, rainbow trout, marabou, subatomic particles, mud snails, mussels, invasive species

I’m still smarting from the “Polyester Sink Strainer” episode, wherein I subjected the kitchen to hideous odors and obscene colors, just to garner a couple of new halo colors to try.

Being a fan of the “Chaos Theory” of fly coloration, and believing that Mother Nature’s bugs are never a uniform coloration – and there’s always an inherent mottle effect besides the very obvious color difference between belly and back.

Angling books love to describe the “ … mayfly tumbling in the current” representation of nymphing, which I don’t subscribe to either. Throw a cat off the garage roof and he lands on his feet, ditto for dogs and in-laws, so invertebrates likely tumble briefly to regain balance, then swim like hell for safety, or the surface.

Colors can dampen as well as provide highlight or halo effects. My earlier example of adding neutral gray squirrel to yarn blends shows the “dampening” effect of gray, how it can take the bright edge off of the yarn dander and make it an earth tone of the original.

Highlights and halos are often wildly different colors added to dubbing to offer a flash or hint of color to the fly. A bit of boldness on the choice of accent can yield some surprising effects.

Like Hot Orange becoming muted and obvious and all at the same time.

Above are two examples of marrying odd colors together to seem much less so. Black and Hot Orange Angelina, and Black mixed with the Grannom Green. (Original colors shown here)

The bright portion of both has been overwhelmed by the surrounding black, and Hot Orange is now coppery colored, and most of the green has vanished.

My war on monochromatic is well documented. I have a goodly supply of the time-honored traditional colors, but most of the unique flies I use each season are a mixture of effects – but almost always polychromatic.

Which isn’t saying much, as any guide can tell you of the client that scoffs at the flies offered him, loudly proclaiming, “I catch all my fish on an Adams” – and if that’s the only thing the gentlemen uses, it becomes a self fulfilling prophecy.

Real differences in flies can only detected when pals are present. Count the number of outstretched palms, and figure you’re onto something.

Impressionists aren’t limited to flights of fancy, despite our being able to list a hundred great uses for Claret. We can use the scientific method when it suits us  – or succumb to the inner child as we deem fit.

Glance at a natural then immediately glance away. What color was it?

Likely you’ll say brown, or dark, or olive-black – you’ll retain a distinct impression of the predominant color and identify it. Flip the bug on its belly and do the same thing. Now it’s tan, or olive, or another color, Mother Nature always provides a light belly and dark back.

The back color is your base – and make the belly color the halo. It’s quite possible that fish on an intercept may get a glimpse of both – and a foraging fish that’s uprooted the insect from instream vegetation or the bottom will see the tumbling variant – guaranteeing both.

Above is the traditional AP Black tied with the mixed black/green on the body, and mixed black/hot orange for the thorax. Those Angelina fibers that are visible are quite muted, but also very obvious.

Moving the perspective a couple inches further away and we’d call both flies … black.

Fish vision and perception are still hotly debated topics, far above our pay grade. What I do recognize is that most artificials are largely stiff compared to the wild gyrations of real insects – and anything I can add that implies motion is as good as the motion itself.

… and Science be Damned, the real fun is in spattering the canvas with Puce, Mauve, and Day Glo yellow, as it upsets conventional bug theory and masks the fact I’ve never been much good at painting within lines …

Tags: Soft Crimp Angelina, AP Black nymph, dubbing highlights, halo dubbing, fish vision, Chaos Theory, Impressionism, evangelical fly tyer

It’s a daunting project that

With Amazon’s Kindle creating quite the stir over Christmas, and competitors lining up to enter similar products into the mix – it appears we’ll have the opportunity to add to our fishing library virtually.

As my vision is on the wane – I can’t admit to comfort while straining over a dimly backlit screen, but it’s likely to intrude more each decade.

There’s quite a few famous angling tomes already available, and many out of print classics that are unavailable to anyone other than collectors.

George Kelson – The Salmon Fly, how to Dress it and how to Use it (1895)

G.E.M. Skues -  The Way of the Trout with the Fly (1921) and Modern Development of the Dry Fly (1910)

Mary Orvis Marbury – Favorite Trout Flies and their Histories

George M. LaBranche – The Dry Fly and Fast Water (1914)

Frederick M. Halford – Floating Flies and How to Dress Them (1886)

There are many hundreds of titles, some you may have never heard of – and the tags under each allow you to refine your search to specific areas of the online collection. Most of the books are old enough to no longer be copyrighted, and it makes sense that Google would want to avoid all the litigation until it’s determined how the author will receive compensation.

Kelson’s book on the Salmon Fly is still considered the Bible of the married wing, eyeless hook crowd. You can download it for free in PDF form versus paying $500 for an old copy.

I’ve read many of these and am continually fascinated over the convictions of their authors. Adding a certain perspective to read, “the Salmon, being the noblest of all fishes, eat Butterflies …” – then grab a copy of a current magazine and read, “they eat leeches because …”

… and in a hundred years will some fellow be giggling over our assumptions?

Our ignorance of history causes us to slander our own times.  – Gustav Flaubert

Anglers today shrink from the old tomes as being antiquated and out of date – and while the language may be archaic, the lessons are still current.

Download a fistful of PDF’s and fish the turn-of-the-century Catskills, or a Irish freshet for sea run trout – then tuck them away as reference materials or simply a good read.

Tags: Project Gutenberg, Google Internet Book Archive, copyright, George Kelson, G.E.M. Skues, Mary Orvis Marbury, George M. LaBranche, Frederick M. Halford, Amazon Kindle, out of print angling books

With rubber soles being the standard of the future and while the vendor community wrestles with compositions, textures, and sticky – eventually settling on some blend they’ll label with a Star Wars moniker, you’d think they might see whose travelled that path terrestrially – before hitting the laboratory.

I’d describe it as an elegant design, a vibram sole equipped with a reversible cleat from Hammacher Schlemmer.

Snapped into the sole of the boot is a cleated segment that’s reversible, cleats on one side, no cleats on the other.

Figure some minor modifications for underwater use, thicker and with a better restraint, but this style would allow an angler to adjust his footing on the fly.

Greasy river bottom? Park on a rock and flip them around for additional purchase (11 cleats on the sole, 5 on the heel). For a sandy bottom, pop them out and reverse them for an all rubber grip.

Now we won’t be wearing the cleats down while hiking along railroad tracks or any overland portages.

It would even allow me to purchase replacements, or offer sets with even more cleats than standard – due to the modular design.

Neat.

Tags: Hammacher Schlemmer, cleated vibram soles, wading technology, modular design, good engineering, reinvent the wheel

… absent the three wise men, whose star led them to Best Buy, where they’re poring over red and blue maps and the merits of Droid versus iPhone.

Yet, in all this I find Hope. Not that I’ve changed spots any. I’m still the opinionated antisocial prick of Posts Past -  only there’s an item common to all fly shop clearance sales – suggesting you astute lads aren’t buying any. 

The Simms “Special Edition” wader mat. I’ve scratched my chin and after considerable thought decided if you own one of these, you’re a complete wienie.

Strong words from a fellow that takes pride in offending everyone, wades in crap, and thinks the purity of decay is the new wilderness.

I recognize the object and its function, freely admit that twenty bucks isn’t likely to break anyone, yet I just can’t find a single worthwhile reason to own one.

… and based on recent sales data and the canny shopping of a spouse navigating the unfamiliar waters of the local fly shop, Simm’s may have invented the fly fishing equivalent of Soap On A Rope.

Why? Gals know dirt.

They’re tired of stumbling over your wet wading boots on the floor of the garage, the mud caked waders flung over the dryer as your anti-invasive strategy, and would just as soon fix all that.

… and there in the sale bin is their instrument of Truth. Precisely the same length as a four-piece rod tube – and when wrapped will fool you into visions of Sage, Scott, and she shouldn’t have … A carat and a half later (which you can ill afford) and the glee of Christmas morn shattered by a drip mat.

… and that’s the best case.

If we look at the raw physics, you used to have two wet boots, one set of wet waders (inside and out), a dripping hollow wading staff, and all of that gear wadded into the same area containing sleeping bag, half eaten loaf of Wonderbread, and room temperature Bologna – left opened in the trunk when you elected to dine afield.

Now there’s another wet, dirty object to taint your precious supplies, or leak into your sleeping bag …

Sherlockian deduction suggests it may be the car that is of greatest concern. Waders and wet boots stashed in finely tailored gear bags emblazoned with vendor label, crest of arms, or both – and while all else is neatly compartmentalized this will be draining into your cashmere interior – while you search the backroads for a rare steak.

… and the fact that you drove such a car down a pitted track to set gleaming next to mine, means you’re a wienie.

Volumes of literature and roadside signs warn you against invasive species. Tanks of chemicals allow you to sprits wading gear back to the sterile pristine, yet there’s a goodly compliment of passengers lining your “drip mat” – and while you and your gear are chaste, that mat is now host to everything you stepped in.

… which makes you a wienie.

Or it could be that you don’t want to get any on you, environment-wise. Slithering into a high priced prophylactic is done to curry favor with the outdoor clique at work, or perhaps it was the Boss – who thought this whole adventure thing would be a great team exercise. He’s self-made and only agreed to the boardroom suggestion of “off site” because he loves to fish.

If so, Mother Nature is likely to bust a cap in your arse and expose you as a wienie.

Try as I might I cannot come up with any desirable characteristics not furnished by an old Playboy or dog-eared newspaper, scrap of carpet, or extra floormat.

“Simms” brooks little argument and looks tastefully sexy in moonlight, but so does my tailgate. I remove dripping garments high above the taint of soil – where they’ll drain fetchingly next to the “4WD” accent.

… any fool can get a high-priced, low-slung euro-roadster down the hill, it’s getting up that grows the Iron Cross …

Unnecessary gear. Another item to forget on the day of departure, another excuse for a high pitched tirade by the car. It’s easier to move the loaf of bread aside, grab your buddy’s down jacket and use that …

… that only costs you dinner.

Tags: Simms Special Edition wading mat, fly fishing wienie, unnecessary bulk, waders, wading boots, invasive species, fly shop, baby Jesus, antisocial prick, IMHO

The second issue of “

… and yes, I added my two cents. This month’s column, “Three Flies Short” is “Paris Hilton is Now, but the Silver Hilton is Forever.” Wherein I accuse the last forty years of fly tiers of obscene crimes too horrible to mention here.

It’s a big, brash issue – filled with commentary and color, art and opinion, and is guaranteed to consume your entire lunch hour – and most of the next.

Quite a few pages, and with all the folks hitting the site – give it a minute to download.

Tags: Fish Can’t Read magazine, fishcantread.com, ezine, three flies short, fly tying, fly fishing, online fly fishing magazines, Dry Fly Media

Rivers of a Lost Coast has been released on DVD, available for $29.95 from the folks at Skinny Fist Productions. It’s just in time to wreak havoc on the entire Thanks-Christmas holiday – and may cause the in-laws to stop fist fighting over who-likes-who-the-mostest.

Bill Schaadt was a name mentioned with great reverence around the San Francisco scene of my youth. It was respect more than veneration, as his antics caused as much bile as admiration among anglers of the day.

I never knew the man, but like all of us – fished in his footsteps.

I’ve fished the Russian River many times, without success. Although I had a couple of near “hook ups” when I burst through the underbrush and emerged in the middle of a gay nudist beach … who thought my neoprene-encased svelte form was the second coming of John Wayne, hisself.

I apologized profusely, and tried the Gualala after that …

Tags: Rivers of a Lost Coast, Bill Schaadt, Ted Lindner, Russian River Steelhead, Skinny Fist Productions