I’ve always considered myself a mercenary, a freshwater whore, willing to sacrifice morals and principles for a chance to get bit. It’s that predation instinct that keeps me abreast of the cockroach in the food chain, repugnant – but just try to get me out of your kitchen..

I’m gearing up for another “blueline” adventure – scarring the face of some pristine forested stream with my Brownline accoutrements and effluent sharpened reflexes. I’m thinking that the Department of Fish and Game should post special regulations for us – like the grocery store nearest the high school, “No More Than 2 students at one time.”

Brownlining > Bluelining.

• Brownliners know constant adversity, there is no “best” time to fish, or “should’ve been here last week.” We wear radiation badges, and when that sucker goes red, we’re out of the water and headed for decontamination.
• Brownliners ignore rain, wind, and cold – also all regulations and season closures. We must escape and evade irate farmers, gang bangers, and overly zealous ecologists just to get to the waters edge.
• Blueliners require insect activity to fish, Brownliners are the insect activity.
• Blueliners are incensed that others have the audacity to fish their favorite spot, Brownliners wait 15 minutes and when the interloper is overcome by fumes, we “roll” the bum and toe the carcass into the underbrush.
• Blueliners must wash their waders to prevent the spread of foreign organisms, Brownliners wash their waders to prevent the spread of Cholera, Typhus, and Malaria.
• Blueliners decry a beaver doing what comes natural, Brownliners welcome beaver – we saw the hair in the water and assumed it was another corpse.
• Blueliners require wild fish stocks and pristine ecology to ply their craft, brownliners only require girls with low standards and questionable virtue. “Pristine” is an unopened Bud Light.

…and finally, Blueliners get wound up and pout when a harsh winter changes stream flow or heavy runoff obscures a favorite run with silt or debris. Brownliners welcome change because the “agents” of change are bigger, meaner, and outnumber us.

We’re optimists by nature, one man’s crap is another man’s holding water. Them effete blueline trout don’t stand a chance. 

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