Author Archives: KBarton10

But wait, there’s more …

Good against remotes is one thing, good against the living is another I’m not so sure the biggest fly shop on the planet isn’t our old friend eBay.

Been busy with mundane tasks this weekend, none of them fishing related – but managed to reacquaint  myself with the eBay phenomenon and how it’s morphed over time.

So few people selling rods and tackle and so many shops – makes perfect sense as the season is closed for many of the little “destination” shops, and they can use eBay to hawk their tackle and flies year round. I think that’s great.

They claimed the Internet was going to change everything, while it may not have done so completely, it’s clear evidence of an option we never had before.

It’s clear that the seller’s know what they have – but it’s still fun to wander through the catalog looking for an extra spool for a 10 year old reel, a replacement tube for a rod, or some vendor trying to get rid of last year’s fly lines so he can restock.

An odd mix of fly shop, flea market and caveat emptor. I can certainly see why the tales of junk collecting are true. The temptation to buy that shattered Leonard rod so that you can salvage a ferrule off it can lead to a garage full of crap.

I have my eye on a couple items, and we’re not averse to throwing a elbow at some faceless stranger. See you on the sniping line.

Technorati Tags: , ,

The Mayfly Boxers are worth the trip

Mayfly Boxers are the Shiznit! An interesting story about an artist that abandoned life as a Wall Street equity trader to paint trout on absolutely everything.

The Painted Trout may be the first “trout theme” items that didn’t make me cringe, then again, I might be completely jaded.. At least the greeting cards didn’t have any of the stuff Daytripper mentioned in his “Top 10 Played Out Words” post.

I found the stuff tasteful and interesting, you might want to give it an eyeball.

Technorati Tags: , ,

Will the real McCoy simply show hisself

The label from the Following up on a comment from Phil Huewe on the “Cheaper Ice Dub” post I did about a week ago. I knew I had the right fiber, it was the right “flavor” of fiber that was my consternation.

I contacted the maker of Angelina, the Meadowbrook Inventions Inc. and asked them what I was looking for – I’d tried the straight, crimped, and hot melt, knew it was the right fiber, but asked if there was something they made I didn’t know about.

The manufacturer referred me to a new form called “Soft Crimp” Angelina, and was nice enough to provide a couple half ounce packages as samples…

Bingo.

Which is the Ice Dub?Angelina is available in 2″, 4″, 6″, and 8″ lengths, not only the texture can be different but the length will throw you off as well. Anything longer than the 2″ will look “orderly” compared to Ice Dub, as they’ve trimmed the Angelina to 1″ and then mixed it all up.

If you want Ice Dub, buy the 2″ flavor of “soft crimp” Angelina. The “soft” part of soft crimp is markedly different than the straight, regular crimp, or hot melt fiber. It’s identical to Ice Dub in texture (although the length will be a bit longer).

All flavors of Angelina have worthy uses, and I haven’t even begun to scratch the surface. What makes it doubly insidious is the other two styles they told me about that I haven’t seen… sometimes your cup runs over…

I have inquiries to vendors the manufacturer recommended, and I’ll post them as soon as I have found a reputable source. I need one with all 41 colors so I can decide what to buy.

I can toss a pinch of the straight and “soft crimp” fibers into an envelope if you want to inspect them for yourself, just email me your mailing address – mine is in the “About” section at the top of the page.

Technorati Tags: , ,

I’m thinking ROCK is far from dead

Some poor fellow probably spent a decade or two on this – not knowing I was planning something nefarious. He’s looking to improve Mankind and all I see is a better way to torture fellow anglers.

Flight of the Valkyrie would be good, especially around hatch time In-stream substrate has always been my weakness, as abandoned cars and sectional sofa’s take on new meaning to a brownline devotee. This may be a “mainstream moment” as I can see hundreds of uses to put the “wireless rock speaker” to work increasing both habitat for critters, and amusement for us sinister types, crouched in the bushes with a microphone.

At $150 these suckers are cheap. Add a dozen to your favorite run crank the volume knob, and eliminate rock snot, mud snails, and all interlopers.

Some fellow intent on his fly with you hidden offering timely elementary school tips, “Hey Batter-Batter, Swing!”

If that doesn’t get him off his game, queue the Grizzly Bear growl…

Technorati Tags: , ,

Most of the heavy metals went south with the runoff and only the truly caustic stuff is left

I’m still in a state of enforced idleness, waiting for water levels to resume some semblance of clarity. I keep checking hoping the stream flow meter has malfunctioned, but it keeps telling me to stay home.

…so I ignore it, and wander out for some visual confirmation.

creekondrugs.jpg

The good news is there are two separate colors instead of a single cocoa latte murk, I assume one is water color, the other is raw selenium. 300 cubic feet per second and it won’t be recognizable until it’s half that.

Instead of anything really productive, I’ve been fiddling with Spey flies and Angelina fiber. I thought that I would hit the American for some steelhead, but got scared off initially by the proposed closure. The Fish and Game Commission decided not to close it, largely because the season was nearly over.

Spey flies have their roots in Scotland, used on the river Spey for Atlantic Salmon. I have always admired their minnow-like silhouette and figured with a little modification they would make nice bass flies.

Hair or fiber can become hackle simply by spinning them in a dubbing loop and palmering the result up the hook shank. Angelina fibers already scream “eat me” and they’re agile enough to dance like crazy underwater. I spun them into hackle using 34 gauge copper wire instead of thread, this’ll make them bulletproof against fish teeth.

Should look like some form of Sushi

We’ll see if “Old Nondescript” can’t see his way to skipping the mayfly nymphs for a small bass-burger; that’s opal Angelina palmered up the shank, with a couple turns of Citronella, topped with some Marcasite. It should be a fair imitation of a little bass, Pikeminnow, or a bluegill.

Technorati Tags: , , ,

For them with questionable social skills

I get to be insensitive until tomorrow, you need practice Set the beer down and back away slowly, you insensitive brute.

Tomorrow, Thursday, February 14th, is Valentine’s Day, and “Ma” craves a little action. It’s one of the three or four holidays that require you to think about someone else’s “tackle” rather than your own.

Why I want to save you is unclear, a reminder of your obligation is warranted however.

Nothing but dinner is saying, “I forgot.” Girls know this – but she’s much too polite to mention it, instead she’ll wash your fishing vest and empty a bottle of starch into the pockets. Dinner out after acknowledging the event that morning, is a different story.

Gals require you to suffer and since they smell good, it’s okay. Flowers and candy, dinner out, all of these are viable tools, but it’s the delivery that sets them apart.

Candy and flowers in the morning says, “I remembered.” She’s not expecting some lavish diamond, she might not even care for candy or traditional stuff, all she craves is a little attention. The undivided kind.

Don’t thrust a Snicker’s bar at her when she steps out of the shower, pretend she’s a large trout – and kinda stealth up to your gift. Ditto for flowers, you don’t hurl them like the morning paper, hand them to her with all the petals intact for once…

Remember, this is the grand old gal that raised your idiot kids and packs your lunch without a thought for herself, and she’s damn well worth every drop of sweat required.

Technorati Tags: , ,

Meet the Brownliner Microwave

“Bait and Switch” describes most restaurant menus I’ve ever seen. Crisp green lettuce, ruby red tomatoes, white onions, crisp pickles – then the order lands with a leaden thump, and the sodden mass of “cow-like substance” winks back at you…

exhaust_burger I always assumed that’s why they took the menus away when they took your order, so you couldn’t point at the picture and protest.

The “Cheeseburger in a can” looked promising, it’s the only meal that advertises itself with no letdown, you don’t need to open it, you already know what it looks like.

For the Epi-Curious the “Tail Pipe Barbeque” has Brownliner written all over it. Slap some grease meat into the device and head for the creek. On arrival you can add bun and assorted condiments, and be the envy of all them tired heroes plodding back to the car.

For the Blueline fishermen we’ll add cutlery, as they don’t appreciate the natural floatation qualities inherent in cow fat.

What’s missing is a couple of large diameter hose clamps, and extra garlic – in case I encounter something tasty near the center divider…

Technorati Tags: , ,

Add Laurel and Hardy and a good doping scandal

Dry them eyes with that fat check I’m completely jealous, first bass fishing, now even sailfish angling has big money contests – replete with bikini clad babes, corpulent sponsors, grandiose prizes, free champagne, and opulent spreads of free food.

So why did trout fishing get shut out of the cash bonanza?

The knee jerk response: “trout fishing is the quiet sport practiced by introverts that wish to commune with their natural surroundings.”

Sounds good on the surface, but it’s too close to the prose used to brush off a second date, too”politically correct” and it’s time to face the harsh truth, we’re a quaint, boring lot.

There, I’ve said it … took me ten grand worth of shrink to utter them words, but I’m feeling better by the moment.

Too many predator poses leaning expectantly over a foppish rod intent on floating dander in midstream – praying we’re gonna outwit something while the camera’s focused on our hindquarters. Waders preclude those from being photogenic, so our audience is left to shudder and look elsewhere.

Billfish Tournament Trout fishing is going backwards, not forwards. We deify the tackle and technique of decades past, and ignore the compelling technological innovations of the present; strobe lights, sirens, and text messaging.

Witness the latest from Zebco, they’re not bemoaning the demise of cane or fiberglass, they’ve got blinking red lights for “bite alerts” and liberally use “glow in the dark” materials so’s you don’t step on your rod when reaching for beer. That’s tangible advancement of the sport, not fiddling with decimal points in modulus and gross weight, whose benefit is lost even on the owner.

We need to focus on the audience, rather than on our own passions, we need to turn trout fishing into a spectacle.

We got SUV’s, they got SUV’s, we just need to imbed ours in a riverbank once or twice. Mother Nature is fine for the ecology types, but the way we spray discarded water bottles, tippet dispensers, and leader wrappers proves we spend more time trying to look up her skirt then ensuring She’s chaste … the glee with which you park your SUV in the streambed should be commensurate.

To hell with elitism, we tried that at least a couple hundred years and have declining participation to show for it – what this sport needs is a good doping scandal.  Some fellow wearing an umpire uniform gazing sternly at some other bass-tournament.jpgfellow, waders around his ankles, pissing into a plastic cup. Roger Clemens & Wife was “yesterday’s news” until the rest of the world discovered all that lycra-spandex hid needle tracks, now they’re likely to vote her into the Hall of Fame as well.

A little “dirty” means huge endorsement dollars – a yearly television contract, and attention from Nike. We’ve had popes and presidents, astronauts and test pilots, and we’re still not invited to the “show.” What’s needed is some debauched starlet hanging on the arm of a Yellowstone guide, or some quaint angling association popped for running a Meth lab…

No single camera can showcase the sport properly and we’ll need assistance from the NFL to catch the action. We could have yellow lines marking the feeding lanes, penalty flags when numbed fingers are unable to change flies fast enough, and cheerleaders. What they’ll do I’m not sure – but it’ll give the camera something to focus on when competitors start swearing loudly.

Most of all we need pratfalls; some helpless SOB moonwalking on slimy rocks desperate to maintain balance, and failing miserably. A sanctimonious oaf droning on about the lifecycle of Mayflies, desperately avoiding the word “screw” –  then going arse over teakettle with only an oil slick to mark the spot.

We’ll treat them with respect, we’ll pay enormous cash prizes and allow them to hawk tackle during the off season, but they’ve got to eat 12 gallons of icy Gatorade in their waders on a win.

I’ll stack our babes against their babes any day. Sure we’ve got mighty few of them, but they’re all lean, hungry, and have as many wardrobe malfunctions as anything on MTV. Our gals ain’t wallflowers, and can hold a conversation, a stark contrast to Miss Ford-Lincoln-Mercury whose there merely to drape herself on whatever is closest to the trophy.

Perhaps it’s tiresome that only PETA has an interest in us, were they to sponsor a couple of tournaments, we’d rethink the entire fishing issue.

Technorati Tags: , , ,

I’ve thought of fly fishing as many things, addiction was right up there, rehab wasn’t

Check for a file in the fighting butt None of the past offenses are mentioned so I can’t determine whether this fits the traditional pattern of self destructive behavior.

“I used to make cane and graphite fishing rods, and tie flies as a hobby when I was on the street,” said Jeremy Loyd, an Arrowhead prison inmate. “I approached Dave Block (a Correctional Industries manager) with an idea for making it a business and an educational program.”

On the surface it sounds like it satisfies the incarceration / rehabilitation model, but knowing our passion for fishing is he merely trading one downward spiral for another?

Yes, I’m joking – but the question remains.

There’s no telling what I’m capable of if a flotilla of inebriated water skiers dampen my fishing, or some insensitive brute on a mountain bike impales himself on my flyrod. If the crime scene evidence goes against me – would my wrapping your graphite rod be punishment, and for whom?

I’ll leave my faith in professionals, they do this stuff full time; but were it me, once back on the street, I’d be hawking dry flies to school kids in no time.

At least I started off feeling patriotic, now I’ll just scratch my head and wonder

Max that sucker for God and Country Like it or no it’s an election year and the current regime feels obligated to safeguard the economy until December, so’s they can blame whatever party takes power shortly thereafter.

It’s a time-honored tradition, and with $600 bucks hurtling your way – coupled with your patriotic duty to blow it in an orgy of consumption, we ask – which flyrod are you gonna buy?

Yes, I’m talking to you, no need to glance around panic stricken..

The commandments are simple; you’re not allowed to bank it, you can’t pay off your mortgage with it, and you’re Al-Qaeda if you contemplate anything like paying down your credit card balance. It’s $600 and anything short of a consumer frenzy is simply unacceptable.

It’s 270 flies (with tax) which should represent a full season for most fishermen, except me, as the Little Stinking is a preserve for Charles Schultz’s “deadly kiting eating trees” and their offspring, the “deadly fly eating low hanging scrub” – even then, 270 flies is most of a weekend.

It’s one reel and extra spool, so long as you covet one of the large arbor “economy stimulating hand tooled aircraft grade something-or-other” – you’ll still have to pop for the fish graphic abstract, but we’ll call you a “super patriot” and can quail hunt with Dick Cheney if you opt for the any of the custom finishes.

It’s most of a flyrod actually, you may be able to get a whole one if you order it off the Internet, but that would raise the “commie” issue as you avoided sales tax entirely. You’d still get to meet Dick, but your cell phone calls will be taped for posterity.

What’s plain to me is that none of us will qualify, because even knowing about this gear means you make far too much money already.

… and that’s an ugly thought – that last rod purchase made us miss the mortgage payment, and we’re the cause of the entire debacle?

Say it ain’t so…

Technorati Tags: , , ,