Tag Archives: Fly Tying

139 Yards of shattered glass

It was one of those rare opportune moments where a simple resupply of “frog” yarn revealed something really useful at a compelling price … even better …ample tonnage remaining to satisfy any fly tier’s ambition to lay in a goodly supply.

Bernat Boa is a synthetic polyester ribbon yarn that’s strong enough to use as hackle, has enough structural integrity to use as streamer wings, can be wound closely to make 3D shaped minnows, and can be knotted and teased into any number of fish killing uses.

I use it consistently in Shad flies, bass flies, and anything requiring saddle hackles, because the edge binding the polyester fibers is thin enough to wind, and can be tied off securely without inducing weakness due to bulk.

As each skein has three or four colors, it becomes really cost effective due to the additional colors that can be harvested from its “camouflage” coloration.

Yarns that are in consistent demand typically introduce new colors (and retire older non performers), and as I refilled my dwindling supply of Shad “pink”, I noticed new colors that made the material doubly compelling.


Apparently for Christmas 2014, Bernat introduced a series called, “Bernat Boa Holidays”, that added three additional festive solid colors;  Santa Suit (red), Holly Green, and Blizzard (white).

The white caught my eye immediately as I was tying some minnow patterns that needed a light colored body, and something about the original photograph suggested these filaments might be a form of Antron.

After I took delivery I was pleasantly surprised. This is a much softer and finer tri-lobal filament that has the “shattered glass” brilliance of Antron, but can be dubbed onto a dry fly.


Where this material truly shines is when it is clipped from the yarn base and mixed into a natural fur blend to offer a sparkle akin to  baby seal. This “shattered glass” effect is great for a medium (trout) sized fur blend, and given polyester dyes readily, additional colors can be made from the white to suit more “earthy” sparkle effects.


Holiday yarns tend to be limited release but I’ve not seen any mention of these being pulled post holiday season.

Do not buy these colors on eBay as they tend to range in the $6-$8 range per skein. Instead get them from YarnSupply.com or Knitting Warehouse – which has Blizzard on sale for $3.69 per skein.

These are often found in KMART stores as well, but holiday colors are typically swapped quickly to seasonal favorites shortly after the festivities are over.

139 yards per skein makes an awful lot of streamers or dubbing blends, I think you’ll find a multitude of uses quickly.

My struggle with diaphanous

While much of the struggle involves spelling the damn word correctly, the remainder of my frustration is having to refine the fly tying equivalent of , “less is more.”


Fly tying being the art of “taming cowlicks”, wherein us tiers deploy spittle, cement, and thread to lash as much as possible onto the hook, and anything we can’t dominate with finger pressure or more thread gets trimmed away…

… yet, I’m on the converse of that road, attempting to invent transparent by adding materials versus subtracting them, and it’s an unmistakable sign the idea was sound but the execution is likely flawed.

Much of what the local bass are eating are minnows. Observation of what few I could see near shore suggest there is a mixture of opaque and diaphanous qualities to the fish. As most of my traditional minnow styles are not working, despite my best attempts at matching colors and sizes, suggests something else might be the issue.

I’ve been fiddling with colors and visibility, but to date that has been fruitless. A few fish follow the imitations, but none have taken the fly. Contrasting the gaudy strumpet I am towing through the water with the natural suggests I need tone down both glitter and bulk.

Bulk is not easy to remove, given how water tends to flatten and streamline dry materials, and lightening bulk typically results in diminishing the profile of the fly – making it more like a pencil In the water than the traditional “pumpkinseed” minnow shape.

While struggling with a lot of other issues I did manage to come up with an elegant solution allowing me to remove bulk without sacrificing the fly shape.

Using a #4 kirbed (point offset) streamer hook, I built a small bulwark of chenille halfway down the shank, after first sliding on a small brass cone.


After whip finishing and adding a drop of cement behind the cone, I retied the thread onto the front of the shank to add a bit of ribbon yarn. I picked a light pink to correspond to gill coloration, and took a couple wraps of the material in front of the cone.  The brass cone flared the material further adding a more pronounced 3-D cone shape to the fly.


This “spread” effect of the underbody will cause any material added onto the fly to spread further, giving the proper silhouette without relying on bulky materials for form.

Taking about 35-40 strands of white marabou – I spread them out along a “dubbed loop” – with about 3/4” of the butts on one side of the loop, and the remaining tapered tips on the other. When spun, the butts (with their thicker stem) add bulk to the area containing the pink ribbon yarn, and the less numerous tips add a bit of color behind the fly, without adding opaqueness.


Add three strands of original holographic green flashabou to the top of the “marabou hackle”, and then add about 20 strands of gray marabou in a clump onto the top of the fly.  The gray marabou should be about 1/2” longer than the white, and the flashabou should be the longest of all, just peeking out from the other mats to make an enticing flash behind the fly.


Add five strands of a Montana Fly barred Ostrich plume (sexy looking but nosebleed expensive @ $9.00), to the top of the fly to add a bit of coloration.


The result is an amorphous lump of materials that will lose opacity when dampened. The bulky area around the bead will retain its mass and color akin to the real baitfish – but the nether underbelly will vanish as the grey marabou, tinsel, and ostrich is longer than the white, making it appear diaphanous and transparent.


The final effect when wet is light and airy with the bulk up front. Note that instead of slimming down to nothing the fly retains the all-important  minnow shape.

The local fish inhaled it with great gusto this weekend, but the unsavory brutes that haunt the local creek would have been just as eager to inhale the twist-off cap from a Budweiser … so additional research is needed.

Science provides inspiration and wisdom does the debunking

I’ve always assumed Renoir and Degas had similar issues with us fly tiers; a couple of decades spent on rigorous painting tedium, and saddled with the costs of painting supplies, groceries, and a roof overhead, true masterpieces were sacrificed for the more mundane portraiture … because painting Madame … paid the bills.

Fly fishing, especially during those cold months between Winter fisheries and Spring, endures a similar tedium, where inspiration comes occasionally, and inclement weather and work combine into  books read, magazines thumbed through, and daydreams of future successes.

I used to find inspiration from periodicals, where fresh ideas and the exploration of new fisheries caused me a fit of tying creativity or made me lust after new terminal gear. Unfortunately, fresh ideas are in limited supply, and periodicals eventually yield to the stale yet profitable, and every Bahamian bone fishing article looks like ISIS reconnoitering Mosul, the difference between the two the color of their sun buff …

With the Internet and its ready access to all of the great colleges, organizations, and  sources of fisheries research, the Scientific community is an underutilized source of freshness in angling ideas. Theories abound on fish, bugs, stream dynamics, global warming, and invasive species, and even a casual knowledge of fish and bug behavior allows the reader to follow along from proposal to conclusion.

The volume of research is staggering, and while much is in its infancy (and is best served as simple topics to mull), a great deal more is mature – and for anglers  seeking new insight into their quarry or craft, become a source of ideas and topics that will never be mainstream enough to grace our angling press, or may feature conclusions that counter current ecological practices and are ignored by our conservation organizations.

In short, if you don’t turn over the stone yourself, no one will turn it for you.

This Spring has seen me start down a thread I found interesting, and resulted in many hours of fervor at the vise. What started simply – as a dissertation on Guppies has led through a chain of other papers, physics, and conventional wisdom, and while both conclusions and flies will always be questionable – the enjoyment of discovery and new inspirations have made the journey completely worthwhile.

The April issue of the Royal Society Proceedings B, has an article discussing the notion that patterns, motion, and coloration of prey (flora and fauna) are inheritable in Guppies, a freshwater fish.

After a great deal of rigorous experimentation the authors concluded Guppies prefer red or orange, and don’t particularly care much for blue. What fascinated me was the discussion that like bees, guppies were capable of honing in on patterns exhibited by their prey (both motion and coloration) akin to bees and birds and the specialized pollination coding on flowers.

For those as are unfamiliar, flowers are colored (both primary color and patterns of color on their petals) to attract the unique insects and birds that can best pollinate them. So long necked flowers that bees cannot climb into are coded for Hummingbirds, and anything with a long, thin proboscis that it can wad into the barrel of the flower.

This notion that freshwater fish may have similar tendencies I found fascinating, given that if anglers accept this notion it would likely spawn a bazillion new patterns that resembled (in coloration and pattern) everything from Green Drakes to discarded French fries.

As Mother Nature colors her insects to resemble the stream bottom, the notion of red or blue is a bit far fetched, but it does buttress our notion that color of the natural is worth imitating, in either dry or wet variants. Inheritance would also ensure that planted fish, should they survive, would also trend toward the same food choices of wild fish – as both groups must dine off the same menu.

Color and shape are the most copied trait of the modern fly tier, a reflection of the prevailing  “match the hatch” logic that has dominated fly fishing for the last several decades. Patterns in coloration and motion are the “less traveled” path, given how fly tying materials have dictated how the resultant imitation moves.

Natural materials being a bit more lively than synthetics, but only by accident, as many natural materials can be stiffened by the simple act of attachment to the hook.

Having to use a “J-shaped” bit of steel to contain all the parts of the natural is also a delimiting factor. Any discussion of imitation has to also recognize the limitations of physics on our potential options.

After a couple of weeks ferreting out full motion videos of mayfly nymphs in their natural settings, and viewing them for signatures akin to how a bee might view flowers, it is quickly apparent that there is a couple of patterns of color on a typical mayfly when swimming. The first was due to its carapace and color density imbued by thickness, and the second was due to gill motion, and the lightening effect that lateral gills (and the light-colored cilia attached) and their constant motion have on the surrounding colors of the insect.


Should this wild notion of torso “pattern-key” being the missing ingredient in the complete subjugation of Salmonids, I could expect some lofty company. The thought of my Portly & Brazen suddenly synonymous with Gordon, Skues, or Sawyer was pretty heady, but a couple of decades of wisdom tempered my flirtation with ego.

Tying flies with this type of pattern in their torso had some very obvious shortcomings …Physics being the most sinister, as all of my full motion vignettes quickly displayed.

BellyBackIn moving water most fish face upstream. Insects dislodged due to mishap or swimming to the surface come downstream (roughly) head first. Fish on the prowl for targets likely don’t see anything of the abdomen patterning save the wink of dark top or light belly, and only if the insect is swimming in its customary violent tail-centric, up-down, fashion.

In still water the fish can encounter an underwater insect along any axis, and the predative view may not even involve any signature other than motion, the frantic attempt to evade being eaten triggering the pursuit.


Not to mention the notion of the fish’s eye not being the same as our stereo flavor, and the exaggerations of coloration that exist when converting a stereo image to an approximation of what we think fish see

… and therein lies the beauty of Science and the unending appeal it has for me and my dull Winter months. A constant stream of facts and theorems that promise future success – all of which must be tempered with angling wisdom and experience, in order to determine which theory will fill next season’s fly box.

What’s not important is whether any chain of facts will result in more fish caught, as the angler cannot determine what he would have done had he fished other flies. What is worthy is to continually question the status quo, given the shaky ground all of our current angling truisms are built upon.

Where we fiddle with worms and body armor

With the lawnmower disabled all thoughts of chores and responsibility were discarded in a hurry, and with only a scant few weeks remaining before silvery plankton eaters invade my waterways, I was intent on finishing up my spring project, rerolling the classic Texas worm rig into a fly.

Lake Berryessa being so close – and fish being visible and numerous makes for a good test bed. Clear water allows me to see the motion of the each faux rubber candidate, and visible fish allowed me to think victory as they approached – and defeat once they paused shy of eating the dang thing.

For “Dokter Frankenstein” only mass acceptance would be a surefire sign of a good design, as few tools in a bass angler’s arsenal are as consistent as a big purple jellyroll served with a side of egg sinker …

The wind was blowing a good clip on Saturday, and I’d planned on heavy flies and breeze, opting for a 10.5’ #7 Orvis I had purchased on eBAY some years back. It was a monstrous stiff rod, better suited for an #8, but was just what was needed to keep unwieldy flies from burying themselves in my hindquarters.

I opted for a Type VI sinking shooting head, as my plan was to fish the small coves that occur with regularity along the bank. As a right-handed caster I had to walk left to keep rod and line out over the water, and the cove indent allows me to cast to the other side and “walk” my “worm” down the far bank before stripping it back to me across the belly of the cove.

In these conditions you don’t have to cast far, as most of the fish are within 20 foot of the bank, getting the fly down to them fast enough is the real issue, and a real problem.


The above picture showing a deep cove that allowed me to fish most of both sides, versus (below) a shallow cove that I could fish in a single pass down the bank.


Mud plumes caused by wind and boat wakes keep me a bit less visible than normal, allowing me to splash around as much as needed when the bank is obstructed.

I was reminded of last week’s rib mash when I discovered the silver dollar sized hole I’d torn in the left boot when I slammed into the hillside. It was the shore-facing leg, and bothersome, but not as critical as the right boot which is planted deepest.


Mix 15 turns of 3 amp fuse wire and 5.5mm bead to the front of a #2 wide gaped popper hook, and you’ve got the aerodynamic equivalent of the Spruce Goose, minus a few engines, and no ability to control its flight shy of the full head out of the guides to coerce the lumbering SOB away from an arse cheek.

Every puff of breeze brought an involuntary full-body clench, anticipation of impact shoved knees together, hat down to protect eyes and face, and cork grip white-knuckled knowing one of your limbs was likely in jeopardy.

I remember thinking to stuff my jacket in the rear pocket of the vest figuring it would staunch any bleeding. Arms were left defenseless as I’d be able to pry the hook out by sight, a back wound would have me operating by feel therefore needed additional protection.

While much refinement remains, the liveliness of the fly is without equal. But getting it to the water remains a bit problematic. The fish gave it a great reception, and I managed to catch both large and smallmouth on the fly in its debut.


Five inches of tough polyester ribbon yarn make the tail portion indistinguishable to the action of a rubber worm. I just need to lighten the fly to make it more comfortable to cast. As it is now the last 20 feet of the retrieve the fly is ticking off the rocks as you draw it to you, so it is making bottom early and prone to snags.


The crayfish was a welcome change up for those coves with shallow water. The bright colors make it quite effective in the mornings, and a bit less so at midday. I used both in the morning, and stuck with the muted tones of my Olive “worm” for the bright sun of midday.

The lake is starting to show a few aggressive fish, but the main body of the lake remains docile. All the folks I talked to on the bank mentioned  the visible fish ignoring lures of any type, a condition the locals insist are characteristic of “pre-spawners.”

We’ll continue to refine this beast over the next couple of weeks prior to Shad showing, on the surface the pattern holds some promise.

A year’s supply of turkey tails in a single outing

The steady beat of his tail suggested he knew most of the dialog on his care and feeding was likely to be disregarded out-of-hand. I leaned over to scratch behind Meat’s ear, echoing the last commandments of his owner,  “… perhaps one tasteful cup of dry dog food with a little organic chicken broth sprinkled on it, should tide him over handsomely.”

Naturally that ration was fit for someone’s parlor plaything, not the fierce, trailblazing fishing dog I would be looking after for the next couple of weeks.

A real fishing dog is capable of fetching a rattlesnake in mid-rattle, whose exposed white teeth and fierce growl cause competing anglers to bolt for the safety of the car, and whose keen nose ferrets out the freshest of road kill, crunching through bones and meat yet always leaving the fur or most desirable feathers intact.

… and any animal capable of scaring a full year’s supply of turkey tails off fat-arsed birds unused to being first herded then chased, warrants a meal fit for a fellow outdoorsman ..


Yes, he’s pretty much useless for the next four hours but that’s true of all of us. We recoup precious calories via midday orgy and subsequent nap, ensuring we’re in top form for the evening hatch.

I sprinkled it liberally with organic chicken broth assuming it would ease passage through the small intestine … I just need to take him to the creek again tomorrow to ensure all evidence of our misdeeds is left there, rather than on the front lawn.

Tying the Awkward hackle, adding artistry and function to the humdrum business of wet fly hackle

I was never at a loss as to what to call it, my only concern was whether I would call it the same thing twice or merely be content with whatever epithet I spat from clenched teeth.

A technique about as awkward as is frustrating, and while those that attempt it are not likely to mention genius in the same breath, it shows rare possibilities of extending traditional wet fly hackle into materials and styles not considered traditional.

As hackle typically covers the tie off of everything that came before it, all you need remember is the amount of “hackle” you prepare must change based on the number of turns you’ll apply, as well as the circumference of the thread you’re about to cover. As “less is more” in wet fly hackle, consider using no more than three turns total – more if using this technique to build a “Palmer” hackle or specialty hackle like a Spey fly requires.

I start with a slip of paper about 3/8” wide and three inches long, and smear a hint of tacky wax to the bottom two inches, giving me an inch to hold that is not sticky. Two inches of “awkward” hackle is about 3-4 turns of a #8 hook.

The beauty of this style is that any fiber is eligible to make a hackle flue, so you can select them based on color, texture, action, or stagger lengths so one color is short and close to the fly – and a second fiber is longer and drapes over the body.

It can also be used to “right size” feathers too big for the hook size you’re tying, as you can pull the fibers short now they’re no longer connected to a bothersome stem.

Clip a few fibers of material and press them into the tacky edge of the paper at regular intervals. Select a second, third, or fourth material and fill in the spaces with additional fibers to make your finished hackle.

In the below example, I’ve added Maple Sugar Teal flank fibers every 1/4 inch, and filled in the gaps with Olive dyed Hare’s Mask guard hair, using both feather and fur to make my hackle. The teal flank is set longer than the Hare’s Mask, which should project a few tips out past the halo of Olive fur, ensuring their color shows separate and distinct.


Once the amount of fibers is appropriate for the hackle density, simply throw a loop of thread from the hook shank and slide the fiber side of the “hackle tape” through the loop, holding onto the top (or bottom) inch that does not have wax on it.


Now grit your teeth and hold the loop closed with your left thumb and forefinger and run your scissors up between the gap of paper and thread and cut away the paper.

Now spin the mixture as quickly as you can to have the thread loop capture each fiber and lock it between the threads. If you’re not swearing yet, start – as really profane swearing can alter gravity and it’s attempt at dropping all your earlier work out of the loop and into your lap.


Transfer the loop to a set of hackle pliers and continue to spin the combined materials tightly. The more turns per inch on the resultant hackle the better the fibers will be anchored on the completed fly.


Here is the completed “Awkward Olive” nymph showing the final hackle. The Maple teal was set longer than the Olive Hare’s Ear guard hair, and the regular rabbit duff found along with the guard hair was left in the final mix to offer softness and motion once wet.


Here’s the same fly shown from above which allows you to see the two lengths of hackle added with a single application. The long teal fibers offer considerably more motion than usual as they are not connected to a stem, and the secondary fibers of Olive Hare’s mask pulse when wet, giving the result a compelling action unavailable in traditional hackle.

Use your imagination, add feather fibers and marabou strands, hair, deer hair fibers, any fibrous material can be used including yarn fragments and bits of tinsel. The only caution is the larger the fiber diameter the harder it is to lock tightly with thread.

Don’t be afraid to add a loop of Size “A” thread or even Kevlar thread for super coarse materials or extremely large flies including those tied Spey style. Wax the loop assist it holding the materials in place for the delicate cut that must be made.

While wax is not as popular as it once was, any tier worth his salt ignores what the crowd likes in favor of what works. It comes from too many icy winters filling fly boxes with bits of dead animal, the kind of behavior that depresses your Facebook “friend” count and neighbors looking to borrow sugar …

Through the Nyquil Glass, and Darkly

You take the green Nyquil and the story ends. You wake in your bed and believe whatever you want to believe.

You take the red Nyquil and you stay in Wonderland and I show you how deep the rabbit-hole goes.

I don’t think someone sits down to invent anything, genius just doesn’t function that way. Great ideas are unasked for and come unbidden with roots enmeshed in frustration – and what starts with a lack of #16 Elk Hair Caddis, morphs into some small structural change that survives additional abuse – or rides more gracefully, add a half dozen colors and it’s a viable new fly.

With most of the gaps in my flybox filled compliments of much needed wet weather, and an upright posture is preferred to prone – due to the ravages of the flu, much of what I’ve created recently are experimentals and variations on a theme, color, or just delirium.

… and as I plug away with Olive’s and Orange’s, Brown and Puce – I find myself tying a lot of standard patterns using only color substitutions, as their construction method is sound and reliable.

… or perhaps mucous has least affected the color centers of the brain, and the rest is tying via rote.

I suppose those tried and true construction styles are hard to beat, and changing the color of the hair or body is often more rewarding than reinventing the wheel.

Periodically I have to tinker with some of the classic styles to address deficiencies of their fishing design, hackle being the bane of the underwater bug. With its fragile stem and proximity to the head, and prone to Harm’s Way when sunken or aerial.

Brass beads aid in shielding hackle from most rocks and errant casts but eventually something is able to part the stem and the bug is lost.

I was emboldened by the Nyquil – as I’m prone to lightheadedness when airways cinch closed and crumpled Kleenex marks my shuffle between bed, bathroom, and tying desk.

Keeping the stem inviolate is the trick – whether it’s fish teeth, sharp rocks, or tree branches. On the above fly the hackle is parachuted around the wingcase butts, then a slip of vinyl is folded over, and finally the wingcase itself (which is also fragile). The vinyl will persist if the Pheasant tail is shredded, and the fragile chicken stem is never exposed to the elements.

It started as a wild enough idea, parachuting the hackle around the wingcase then folding the material forward per normal – as in the below.

… but then I realized the wingcase was every bit as fragile as the chicken hackle, and hiding the entire assemblage was the better idea. It’s an interesting take on an age old problem, and as I’ve not seen it before, the idea may stimulate your creative juices.

Tags: fly tying, parachute nymphs, fragile hackle stem, durability, fly style, test post

While Ernest Schweibert killed color and expressionism, it wasn’t personal

It was collateral damage, purely accidental, but he doomed us fly tiers to a bland palette of earth tones. The implement of destruction was the release of “Matching the Hatch” which debuted with little fanfare in 1962. Since then we’ve been limited to the colors of Mother Nature – not a bad thing, but it’s stifled the artist in all of us.

The richness of colors available in Salmon and Steelhead flies is all that remains of the pre-realism movement, and may be the reason why many tiers dabble in exotic patterns – color starvation.

Caffiene induced artistry, to hell with drab colors In researching the latest craze, “Czech Nymphing” – the thought occurred to me that the style of fishing isn’t new, Western anglers call it “High Sticking” – a traditional pocket water nymphing style used with great effect for many decades. It’s the flies that are new – thin profiles, heavily weighted, and … colorful?

Little wonder it’s the latest craze, as every tyer on the planet suddenly has a use for red, yellow, and orange dubbing. After 25 years of drab flies, it’s time to let the beast loose.

I’ve been quietly letting my artistic bent have its way with my flies, relishing those colors that have been dormant in my trout flies for so long. I’m making some minor modifications to the Czech style of tying as I stopped using latex and vinyl in flies many years ago.

Vinyl oxidizes badly, even if contained in a dark fly box. The flies fish well, but you open your box the following season and find the vinyl broken or discolored. Latex was much worse, one season and you had a bare hook shank and loose rubber bands instead of flies.

I opted for no “shell back” – focusing instead on lots of lead and pretty colors. I may fiddle with some raffia or swiss straw later, but it’s the colors that are driving my sudden artistic bent; 18 turns of 1 AMP fuse wire for an underbody, about twice what I would normally use, enough to remove an ear if the forward cast catches an updraft…

While the “Little Stinking” is blown out, I’ll continue with my caffeine induced impressionism, the next batch will incorporate lead, riotous color, and Salvador Dali … don’t giggle until you see them.

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Hell, we tried lawyers a dozen times, maybe a fisherman would bring some marketable skills

It ended his election, he should've driven a Bass boat It’s officially an election year, and we’re about to be courted by all the candidates and their apparatchik. Each campaign has a smartly dressed fellow with a overly stuffed briefcase methodically checking off the the important voting blocks each candidate has to acknowledge.

We’ve seen it in prior elections; a baseball cap doffed in Iowa, a tank driven in Michigan, a Hummer valet parked in California – each photo opportunity carefully crafted to appeal to some minute segment of society, “Vote for me, ’cause I’m like you..”

Fishermen are one of those demographics that will get addressed later in the year, the larger blocks of voters get first “dibs.” The question for us is “exactly what does a fisherman president bring, that a non fisherman wouldn’t?”

I’m not talking about the obvious stuff, the Right to Arm Bears, or any of the controversial nonsense, I’m talking about character.

I’ve fished with most socio-economic levels, professions, and all four sexes, so I was mentally comparing common traits, a good president doesn’t need to be a fisherman, but there are some innate talents anglers have that’d be beneficial for a senior statesman.

Whenever they renegotiate the next SALT treaty, I’d rather have a fisherman at the table, as he can mention that we’ve got a space based death ray, and can do it with a straight face. Fishermen don’t see a small exaggeration as lying, and that’ll come in real handy.

The Republicans appear to be beating each other over the head with the immigration issue, a fisherman president would solve that in a fortnight, as over-limit may be embarrassing but it’s still a good thing.

Vote I’m thinking the federal deficit would still be an issue, especially if they stock the Executive washroom with Orvis catalogs, and the Iraqi conflict would be settled in a week, as there isn’t any gamefish worth the continued expenditure.

It would be gratifying to have a “rip snorter” president akin to Teddy Roosevelt, them powderpuffs that inhabit the Beltway would have to lobby whilst swatting mosquitos, a welcome change from conducting state business in a Minneapolis washroom.

But don’t expect to see any trout fishermen, “America’s Fish” is now the Largemouth Bass, so we’ll likely see more wake then wading, it’ll play well with them Southern fellows, and we’ll have to determine who can tie a clinch knot via television special.

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