Author Archives: KBarton10

It whispers to me, telling me to do bad things

I stopped fighting it long ago. You’re standing there holding your gal’s purse while she’s swearing in the changing room attempting to make the size she wore in High School make it over the convex of midlife …

Guys have it so easy, “I need a bigger pants size … must be I’m hung better.” Whatever the inner voice whispers, it’s lying to them and dissembling to us.

Good trade.

I get the same voice whispering at me when I’m fondling some gawd-awful material last worn by the Bee-Gee’s, and even then it was questionable.

Roughfisher calls it “Clownshoes” – and I do my best to defend an “artistic challenge” – figuring that was the reaction all them other fly tiers had – and how my pending discovery of an unknown fish weakness for Pink Lame’ is about to change fly fishing forever.

That same voice claims Van Gogh sold nothing early in his career ..

A break in the weather afforded an opportunity to stomp gravel, and I was quick to take advantage – in spite of a month of zero luck. By now the lower river had consumed the piles of goat guts, allowing me to use the bridge access without fainting.

I stuffed the latest 10 “Clownshoe” candidates in an upper pocket and figured I had enough time to roundtrip four miles before them big gray thunderheads drew close.

 The latest clownshoe candidates with skein of yarn in background

I had a couple new yarns from Turkey – and the little voice yammered overtime – I took one look at the rainbow color and polyamide braided mayfly nymphs leapt out of the vice. The above samples are size 14.

Polyamide (a form of nylon) has a sheen that becomes translucent in water. The double eyelash streamers had shown me just how remarkable it looks – so I figured a smaller gauge would lend itself to mayflies and damsel nymphs.

Four miles later I was still wondering – the lower river was lifeless.

The Rusty Orange clownshoe, figure it darkens and is transluscent 

The physics trials went really well, but the fish are nowhere to be found. Tied on the small scud hooks with a 2mm gunmetal bead, the fly flops over nicely and rides hook point up – a requirement for Brownline fishing.

The damp Olive Clownshoe, the material shows its opaque and transparent areas 

The translucent effect is still present, the braided area is opaque and the filaments turn ghost-like when wet. It’s a promising look that we’ll try later, when the fish have decided to eat again.

One ball of yarn and all the colors in the rainbow makes a daunting artistic challenge.

The disco yarn even looked good – but this will have to wait until the next steelhead trip – or Spring, when the good citizens of the Little Stinking abandon all semblance of refinement and eat broken glass …

 The Bee Gee's probably wore this before being stoned by the crowd

It’s another Turkish export, 65% Polyamide and 35% Mylar – and it’s bright enough to make you cringe, just what’s needed to make a big Steelhead hear the little voice that tells him, “Shazam!..”

Just be glad Ma didn’t gift you this sweater for Christmas …

I was thinking durable – how I might singe the end with a lighter just to make sure it didn’t unravel, when a big Sacramento Sucker came upstream at me with “Durable” written on his back..

 He's awful lucky, Osprey's don't normally get just one fistfull

Despite his appearance he was mighty lucky, Osprey don’t usually lose their grip. In his case, his weight tore the talons out taking with it a walnut sized chunk of his back. This fish is about 24″ long – he’ll live.

Things that make you go, huh?

The Moffitt fly fishing system The “system” word always scares hell out of me. I’ve always assumed it’s the rugged individualist that gets squeamish at the thought of tailoring his fishing to someone else’s system; it doesn’t mean it’s bad – we just know our opportunity for freestyle points evaporates.

Circle hooks have really made an impact in saltwater – and most of the big game market has converted to their use. Moffitt Angling has adapted Circle hooks to their hookless fly fishing system.

My reaction is like everyone else, “Huh? Eww…” But that’s based on years of conventional fly fishing – and like they say, only a baby likes change…

Hookless soft cored flies attached to a leader via looped connection, with the leader tipped with a Circle hook. Fish eats fly, angler sets hook, and hook makes contact with outer jaw only.

The theory is sound.

The hideous flaw is angler ego, now that bug and hook are separate they can be differing sizes, and ego will dictate the #24 Trico will be used in the retelling , even though the Circle hook was a #14.

Despite the ease of release and the claim that fish no longer need to handled – they’ve forgotten the need to immortalize the event, so the fish is yanked out of the water and manhandled for the lens…

The Science appears sound, it’s us that may need changing.

It’s always interesting to see something that doesn’t fit the traditional mold, you may want to visit and watch their video on how it all works.

The white dinner jacket is optional

Waders have always served well in the water and can be bestial on long treks from the parking lot. Rather than take a chance on the viability of the Big Three automakers, perhaps you can convince the spouse to kill two birds with a single stone…

It's greener than green

Three onboard electric motors coupled with zero emissions and biodegradable lubricants yields a 13mph underwater speed; fast enough to get into the holding water before the competition realizes their foot’s missing.

Not many of us can pull off the white dinner jacket, “Olive, Pale Olive” line of Hollywood legend, but herding steelhead would be fun for a change – and if you live near the coast, DUI’s may be a thing of the past. One good wrench of the wheel and the arresting officer is calling an ambulance – while you weave your way through the yacht traffic..

Tweed might itch, so we’ll let you wear Polyester

A Professional - you can assume the tie is a clue Professional has its moments, but if “Unwashed Bob,” who catches more fish than any human alive, is unbooked, wouldn’t he be equivalent to a smiling courteous staff?

“Professional” is as common as fish on ads for fly fishing outfitters, lodges, casting schools, waders, and accessories. Vendor coffers spew oodles of dollars to show beaming clients, pristine cabins, heroic guides, and crisp linen. Owners insist that their clean cut “professionals” are of different cloth than the hard drinking, eye patch wearing, womanizing brutes that made your last trip an adventure.

Is professional really so, and do we need it?

The foundation of fly fishing lore is some crusty local whose homespun wit and flies makes enormous fish do bad things. His secret is the unique color of the flea bit hound snoring on his porch, who might resent being awakened but doesn’t mind you yanking a handful of dubbing – unless it’s from a sensitive area. 

Miriam Webster defines a professional as, “participating for gain or livelihood in an activity or field of endeavor often engaged in by amateurs.”

That covers the full gamut – from part time guides to full time drunks.

Guides would be the first to complain, as full time guides are superior to part timers, and local full timers are seated next to the Holy Ghost hisself.

Using the same criteria, the little Sri Lankan gal tying Hare’s Ear’s for a dime a day – why isn’t she awash in certificates? She’s a professional, she lacks the free time to become the complete fly tier as we know them, but after tying 47,266 #14’s, I’d include her in any sweeping usage of the term.

Apparently there’s more than one kind of professional, and confusion lies in the small advertisement space, wherein the proprietor doesn’t have the print real estate to explain which kind of professional he’s employing.

If I’m engaging a bush pilot for the last leg to the lodge, I’d prefer the Professional professional, the fellow with a silk scarf that flew P-39’s with Claire Chennault, not the regular kind. If I’m fishing in bear country, serenaded by the roar of Grizzlies, I want the fat and slow professional, the fellow that wheezes after a single flight of stairs. If I’m learning to cast, certification is an aging yellow paper, I’d prefer the medical professional, as we’d both save money on the insurance.

Accommodations are professional, I want an empty ashtray, clean linen, and the professional steak; most steaks were actually cows, so they can’t be professional, I’m willing to take my chances with the stem cell variant.

… and for all else, I want them hard drinking homespun fellows from down the street. They ogled my daughter, swear at me for mistakes, and serve bologna for lunch – but the pictures I show the office won’t have any of that – just a lot of slab sided, dripping fish with me “making heroic” in the background.

Real professionals wear ties. They dress up to fish, invented the fly you’re using, and can add 60 feet to your cast just by uncrating the crystal dinnerware.

Scheherazade is easy. The little black dress is hard.

Miss Holly Golightly, Breakfast at Tiffany's I’m not sure that “the little Black dress” is just a girl’s best friend, it’s one of my favorites as well.

I was reminded again Sunday, when older brother and I endured another fruitless expedition; we’d tried everything else and I knotted on a battered black thing hoping it would reverse sagging fortune. One large fish rolled off the bottom to intercept -one brief throb of the rod, and the dance was over.

Why the black fly drew a lethargic fish when all else failed is unknown, but it adds to the notion that Black is somehow different.

Like the Little Black dress, black has a legion of followers. It doesn’t matter whether you’re a naturalist, impressionist, or surrealist – you’ve got a handful of black flies in your flybox, and at least one of them has made your “top 10 list.”

Black is singular lacking gradients or shades, and the flies we make from it use action words, not qualifiers. There’s no ambiguity in absolutes, and while “pale”, “medium”, and “rusty” work for other flies, black flies are syllables bitten off by teeth …

Black Leech. Black Gnat. Black Martinez, AP Black. Black is past seduction, it’s more “date rape”; failing light and you’ve tried those pastel bugs the other fellow mentioned – now you want a fly that makes Momma’s fry pan happy…

Nature sees it the same way, black doesn’t mess around, black hurts; Black Widow, Blackfly, Black eye, Black Belt, Black Death.

Black’s reputation is well deserved, a unique combination of underwater phenomenon and canny anglers whose series flies almost always have a black variant. It’s the universal color, as effective in salt as fresh, fished in conditions of “too bright” or black dark, and is the benefactor of a significant physics advantage versus all other colors.

Light rays (comprising colors of various wavelengths) passing through water penetrate only to certain depths. Water clarity plays a huge role in how far they can be seen, but the warm spectrum; red, orange, and yellow are the first colors to be filtered. Red is removed within the first 10′ of water, orange next, and yellow may persist to 30′, but beyond each boundary that color becomes unlighted and dark. Increasing depth removes all remaining colors in turn, until everything’s black.

Black is most visible against a light background, and considering the fly is often above the fish and sky makes a light backdrop – a black fly offers the best silhouette and can be seen at distance.

‘When it’s clear and bright, tie on a Silver Doctor. When dark and overcast, use a Black Doctor’

Coco Chanel is credited with the Little Black Dress, with unknown  influence from the Black Doctor, her favorite salmon fly immortalized by the above quote.

For the last 80 years – countless fellows have waited impatiently at the curb and been rewarded by her fashions, for the last couple of centuries many more have swung flies and applauded the absence of color.

It’s his last day of vacation, and a toast is in order

Fix half in four years and you've got my vote Please Lord, make this one a good one…

I’m tired of little gimlet eyed, squinch-faced pricks mumbling at me from the Oval Office. I don’t care to entertain more voodoo economic models with clever names like “supply-side” or “Haliburton.”

I don’t care whether he’s a democrat or a republican, what color he is, whether he drinks, kisses guys, fishes, or wears women’s underwear, just give me a bright, industrious president with foresight and patience, whose ethics or interests intersect my own.

In a foxhole there’s little distinction between the parties, and this  fellow is going to need all the help we can muster, just to compensate for the excesses of the last couple of decades.

We’re all guilty, and we’re all going to give something; your kids will get jobs, parents will prolong retirement, and the rest of us will donate cash. The next couple of decades may yield some heroes rather than villains, and Time can choose between someone other than Jeffrey Skilling, Bernie Ebbers, Paris Hilton, or Bernie Madoff for cover art.

I’m not pleased by an 11 trillion dollar legacy foisted on us by the last administration, but as the rest of you voted for him, I’ll do my share.

In the meantime, enjoy watching Barack Obama’s last day of vacation, it’s certain to be a spectacle in the coming months, and though cautious, I’d love to see another great US President rather than read about them in history books.

It’s instinctual to shudder at "feel good" product sites

It's the food of the futureManufacturers love sponsoring a “feel good” web site about product that’s made headlines in a sordid fashion, it’s all the rage. 

Then again, some companies just take their lumps;  no “LickChineseMadeToys.org” or “PeanutButterIsSafeNow.org” – those fellows buckled down and are attempting to fix their house – with us left wondering whether they were successful or not.

Our uneasiness rests with the knowledge that none of those conglomerates truly have our interests at heart, and despite all the warm colors and Mom ladling steaming dishes of yumyum to beaming children, it’s still caveat emptor.

The latest offering is SalmonFacts.org, wherein we’re regaled with the benefits and safety that’s farmed salmon; low in PCB’s, no mercury, and sea lice are yesterday’s news.

Feel the Love:

Gray flesh versus warm Pink meat: Because of its secondary effect of turning flesh colors, some have looked upon astaxanthin as a die or a color additive. It is neither. Rather, it is simply a nutrient that happens to turn ova or flesh pink. No worries.

Escapee’s: When farmed Pacific salmon escape they do not compete well in the wild and do not have a high survival rate therefore reducing the chances of competition for food and habitat. No worries.

Crap buildup and oxygen depletion: The effects of the ocean bottom begin to reverse naturally as soon as the fish are fully harvested from a site. No worries.

Digging a little deeper into the site – past all the smiling kiddies and grandmothers, yields all the really gritty stuff. Their response to “extremist” environmental groups and the NY Times, who had the audacity to spill facts on Chilean farms.

… most of which is generated by CounterPoint Strategies, one of many “pit bull” corporate image cleansers.

That’s why I’m always skeptical, peel back the warm exterior and some fellow is telling me;

Reporters are urged to consult with members of the seafood community to provide a fuller picture of the issues involved.

“Fair and unbiased” – someone that eats sunflower seeds and rock mold holding my left hand – and a Blackwater Security skinhead with a hastily typed corporate name tag, holding my right.

Rod company layoffs continue

More economic upheaval for rod companies First Winston Rod and now Orvis. MidCurrent reports that Orvis has laid off 27 salaried employees from the Manchester office, and an additional 12 positions from the rod shop.

Luxury items are the first to go, and with everyone tightening their belt, this is expected.

Luxury bellweather Tiffany’s reported a 30% drop in US sales, and nine hundred dollar fishing rods have little place given the current economic climate. My expectation is there’ll be a lot more layoffs announced by rod companies this year.

Orvis is especially vulnerable – a combination of high end clothier and rod merchant, with a penchant for undercutting their own margins via “warehouse” sales resold on eBay.

Getting a $600 rod for $49 bucks ensures us newly cost conscious anglers defer to the electronic marketplace.

The “fun” is just getting started, tighten your belts and hang on.

Will Taimen be as compelling if we use the other five senses?

With Odorama!With Hollywood scheduling eight 3-D films this year, will the extremist angling film crowd be swayed by the flames and guts splashing over the audience – and play the same card with an angling feature?

Me? I’d say it’s a “no brainer.”

All them fellows were raised on zombie movies and carnage, and the neo-traditional “grip and grin” pose is yesterday’s news…

Prepare for the Attack of the Giant Chrome Slab of Steelhead Death – thrust into the theater by some fellow dressed like a crazed homeless person, complete with the Slimy Fingerless Gloves of Possible Strangulation.

All them fellows have a maniacal laugh – mostly because they didn’t have to pay for the trip, nor supply the camera crew with Yak Butter Margarita’s of local manufacture.

I’d suggest that AEG Media and it’s followers skip the entire genre. Instead resurface Odorama, and unleash Scratch n’ Sniff hell on a unsuspecting film audience.

A big fish is admirable, but once you’ve seen a couple dozen them 3-D glasses start to itch. The smell of a Mongolian Yurt, with adjoining stable of Yak’s in full rut – is an olfactory pinnacle whose memory lingers forever.

Ditto for every carcass washed up at the high water mark. Thrill to the bouquet of Taimen – caught after a week of direct sunshine …

Some follow fashion, and some set it, certainly there’s a unique opportunity for a film director imbued with real passion.

There’s money in them worms

garnetpin Caddis are becoming a growth industry, first the French rolled them in gold and precious stones, now we’re shamelessly exploiting the poor beasts for all manner of adornment.

Wildscape.com specializes in Caddis cases made from semi-precious stones, reinforced by epoxy, then transformed into pendants, bracelets, and necklaces.

The prices are a little easier to swallow, easier than the “brick” the Trout has to eat.

 Owe your life to a Carp? If there’s justice you will. Researchers discover how carp can survive in oxygen depleted water, and the same process could be used to minimize the oxygen depravation damage incurred by stroke victims.

It’s poetic justice, after a lifetime of tossing coarse fish up onto the bank to expire, it’s you lying on the bank gasping for breath while clutching your chest, and the Carp swims close and gives you the extended pectoral fin…