Author Archives: KBarton10

You Call it healthy, I call it "human dandruff"

He carries his back to the car, how come you don't? Nothing brings the problem home more than surveying the debris field that is the high water mark. The Little Stinking has been a torrent over the last couple of weeks, and I amble out there periodically to keep tabs on it. Usually I have a garbage sack in tow, as each new high in the water level leaves a new supply of plastic water bottles and similar trash. It’s become my favorite pet peeve, as I feel obligated to carry yours back to the car along with the diet soda can I brought.

I get that you’re attempting healthy, but like most new hobbies you’re still unskilled in the fine points of carrying out your trash.

They float like corks and line every major waterway we fish. Light as air they’ll fly out the back of pickup trucks, slipping out when the car door’s opened, and sprayed around the neighborhood by your kids – who get these from Mom as they’re “more healthy than soda pop.”

They aren’t really, but you bought the whole “mountain spring-double-extra-pure” advertising package, and now you’re paying more for a gallon of water than you do for gas.

You must really like tap water.

In fact, about 40 per cent of bottled water actually is tap water. The biggest-selling brands are Aquafina, which is owned by Pepsi, and Dasani, which is owned by Coke. As Pepsi was forced to admit last summer, both brands are just filtered tap water — with an outrageous markup.

Diet soda isn’t likely to set a gourmet’s tastebuds afire, but it isn’t costing $1.79 per 12 ounces either.

You ain’t as clever as you make out, now you’re looking at someone your own size

Lock and Load, Baby I got my question answered and it wasn’t the screenwriter’s what done it, just a run-of-the-mill Legal type wrote the script. This time they might’ve driven a wedge in the farming community and garnered fishermen some unlikely allies, something they’ll soon regret.

The “Water Wars” continue unabated, and last weeks suit of the State of California by the Coalition for a Sustainable Delta, has escalated a bit – in my mind, a bit in our favor.

This coalition is the front for the farmers in Kern county, who are suing the Department of Fish and Game and the State of California for the promotion of a foreign species, Striped Bass, whose predatory antics (they claim) are causing the current decline in smelt, salmon, and most other fisheries.

This time they pooched it – as they’re also interesting in examining wasteful water practices from “…thousands of unchecked farm water diversions in the Delta itself.”

It’s no longer fishermen and ecologists against farmers, it’s going to be farmer on farmer. Whose crops are more important? I don’t think they want to surface that question, not with all those intertwined subsidies, corporate “farms” – and water intensive produce.

This will make one hell of a battle and will likely have some strange allies, and stranger opponents, with us “small yet vocal” fishermen prodding both 800 lb Gorillas… from a respectful distance of course.

A war on two fronts is a poor strategy, those that don’t learn the lessons of history are doomed to repeat them.

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I did a triple header in my own backyard, a Brown, a Golden, and a Calico

Slow the retrieve just a bit, it's like Bonefishing only with screaming Old Ladies I’m without a viable fishery, and that’s worthy of mourning. Salmon will be closed soon due to the demise of the Chinook run, likely prompting Fish and Game to close everything as most folks can’t distinguish between salmon species…

I haven’t heard the outcome of today’s meeting to close the steelhead fishery for 60 days, and the Little Stinking  is running about 15 times it’s normal size.

I tried the Supermarket – leaving the cart some distance back from the fish section, tossing a pebble in the freezer to see if anything spooked, but the only motion I saw was from a Tilapia fillet, and those don’t eat flies.

All that’s left is “Katfishing” which bears no resemblance to Catfishing as we know it. You take a steelhead rod equipped with a shooting head, add an 8 inch streamer of Glo-Bug yarn (combed out so it’s big and fluffy) on a 3X tippet and pretend to be practicing on your front lawn.

Typical feeding lane, keep a firm grip on the rodWhen the neighbors stop watching lay a cast in tight to their hedge and strip it back over the grass. Give it a good “wounded” retrieve, but hold onto the rod, that big Tabby that craps on your Petunias is going to want this sucker in the worst way.

Glo-Bug yarn works best, as feline claws will get good purchase on the initial pounce, and you can get a fairly good tussle interspersed with the occasional run.

This is strictly a “Katch and Release” fishery, but there’s no limit to the number of hook ups, most cats will take the fly 40 or 50 times in a single cast. No, you won’t hurt them and they’ll have as much fun as you will, but if Mrs. Flauntleroy is peering at you from her kitchen window, cool it.

If you don’t know the cat personally, uses steel mesh gloves on the release, either that or pliers…

It’s my birdseed, those are my songbirds, cats have to make my reel sing for their supper.

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The Complete Vindication of the Trout Underground and my public semi-heartfelt apology, well almost

I see this as a complete vindication for Tom Chandler and the Trout Underground. I’ve teased him unmercifully about “scantily clad strumpet” posts being his undoing, he counters with the “… new advertising paradigm you (expletive) Meathead…”

Heartfelt apology, american style

I’m not surprised, he’s a talented writer known for elegant prose and sloppy hot dogs, I’m merely the dog that whines at his feet hoping he’ll let me crap sometime this century.

For them as has fished for a couple decades, Aberchrombie & Fitch used to be a real tackle store, and before its current reincarnation the old San Francisco store had four floors of gear; two for clothing, 1 for tackle, and 1 for guns.

I remember smashing the Piggy Bank when I heard about the “going out of business sale” – and still own the Hardy Perfect I got after “coldcocking” Grandma, wrenching the reel from her fingers, and applying both boots to her.

Don’t look aghast, that reel was only forty bucks, at today’s prices – you would’ve shot the old gal.

Calling someone “Mr. Abercrombie & Fitch” used to mean he was attired in the finest of outdoor clothing and a conspicuous overconsumer, now it appears the meaning is something vastly different.

Police confiscated two display photos of scantily clad men and a woman from an Abercrombie & Fitch store and cited the manager on a misdemeanor obscenity charge, authorities said.

Based on the above, Tom’s correct – the new advertising paradigm appears to be gathering momentum, “partially clad” sells like hot cakes and us “wannabe’s” are just that. I don’t dare ask Tom who he’s been writing copy for – anyone wanna guess?

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If you manage to get more on the material than you do on the floor, you’re successful

My gal was out of the house this weekend so I made melancholy until her car left the driveway. Seizing the opportunity of her absence is important, if she knew what I was up to she’d swivel her head 360 degrees and chase my ass with a butcher knife.

Beaver Frisbee, Dogs love ‘emThe trick is in hiding your tracks and getting most of the chores done – all without leaving a hint that you’re in her kitchen splattering noxious dye in every direction.

I had snuck a couple of Beaver “Frisbees” into the garage, intercepting the package before Madam got wise, fortunately Coffin Creek Furs ships in a plain brown wrapper, and at $15.00 for 4 square feet of hide, it’s a deal that can’t be beaten.

I destroy plenty so the extra fur is useful. Chalk it up to artistic license, sometimes the color is unsuitable, the dye bath too weak, or the phone rang and you boiled it past the color you wanted, it’s all part of the fun.

Yep, that’s her sink, make sure it’s spotless“Fun” if there’s no evidence in the sink when done, one small hint of mischief and I’ll endure the water torture and glaring incandescent bulb, it’s worse then living with Columbo..

Cloth dyes like RIT work fine on fur but the color will not be vibrant. Salt fixed dyes yield a more somber pastel color, fine for earth tones but unsuitable for bright colors.

If you need vibrant colors like red and orange, you have to use “acid” dyes, also called “aniline” or “coal tar” dyes. These were available under the Veniard label in the UK fly shops. Don’t be scared by the “acid” term, regular white vinegar (5% Acetic acid) or Muriatic (10% Hydrochloric acid) is used to fix the colors. Muriatic acid is what you cleanse a swimming pool with – you may even have some in the garage.

Now you’ve got four colors completed, Olive and it’s componentsToday it was “olives” I was interested in – not simply olive, but a range of olive colors from dark to light. Olive is a mixture of yellow, green, and black, and the proportion of each determines the final color.

I always use a mixture of colors to make the final dubbing rather than using a single dye color, yielding fur that looks like the desired color, but has fibers from all the component colors to add variation. It’s doubly useful because you’ll get dubbing for all the component colors and the final color, yielding an assortment of 5 or 6 colors per batch.

The final assembly is done with a coffee grinder. I trim the fur off the hides after they’ve dried and mix them using a blender. I’ll use Angelina fibers to add some sparkle to the blend, both similar colors for the true olives, and try some wild combinations to see the effect on the finished fly.

Because of the “tinkering” I do with color, I always dye much more than I need, this gives me plenty to play with and gives leftover pieces to tuck into the drawer should I need to restock the colors later.

I try to make about 1/2 to 1 oz of dubbing per color. This will be a dense ball of dubbing slightly larger than your fist. I’ll start by trimming 50% off the green hide, 50% off the yellow hide, and 10% off the charcoal beaver. No need to be delicate, carve it off with scissors or a razor blade, guard hairs and all. I run each through the blender to fluff them up, then start mixing the final color.

A standard coffee grinder cannot handle long filaments as they’ll wrap around the center shaft and burn up the motor. Keep all of the materials used to about 1.5 inches in fiber length, trim the components as needed to prevent binding. These small grinders cannot accommodate an ounce of fur at a time, so do small batches 1/3 to 1/4 ounce at a time.

This is a coffee grinder purchased specifically for making dubbing, if you use the “production” grinder in the kitchen you’re a dead man.

Once the color is blended I add guard hairs from a Hare’s Mask, to add spike and contrasting color to the nymph blend. If you’re making dry fly dubbing, no guard hairs are needed.

Last step is to add some Angelina fibers for flash. I’ll divide the finished color in half and add the trimmed Angelina (cut to 1.5 inch) to only half of the product. This gives me two flavors, “flash enhanced” and regular.

The completed color on a fly, now clean the sink before she gets wise

If you are making multiple shades of the same color, just change the proportions, a lighter olive will have less green and charcoal, a darker olive will boost the charcoal, warmer olive – increase the yellow, colder – increase the green, etc. Use the artist’s color wheel to determine the components for each color.

I hid the dye pot in the garage again, and acted completely angelic when the “cops” showed. If you try the “I missed you, Sweetums” gambit she’ll know somethings amiss, always leave one chore on the list incomplete that way she assumes you lounged around watching football. It throws her “crime scene” radar into complete disarray.

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I never heard so much as a whisper, and now it’s much too late

The last of the Redditch hookmakers I don’t know why I expected anything different, I wrote enough articles on the decline in “genetic diversity” to know better. It’s part and parcel of the “WalMart” phenomenon, small Mom and Pop business’s forced out of existence by sinister and cavernous chain stores.

It began innocent enough, I’m low on the special hooks used for my steelhead flies. The slim chance that I will confront a steelhead forces me to attempt every advantage, and I was down to my last box of razor sharp Partridge hooks that I’d squirreled away for personal use. To my horror they’re unavailable, worse yet the company has been swallowed by the mighty minions of Mustad.

The bloody coup occurred a year ago, I don’t even get a chance to rush to their defense in an orgy of protective consumerism.

“Partridge of Redditch” is no more, and with their demise a lot of small custom hooks have vanished from the market. I’ve used quite a few of their hooks, and fiddled with many of the odd styles – their quality was unsurpassed and their responsiveness to the public was remarkable.

They still make fish hooks, but only the mainstream conventional stuff remains of what was once a vibrant catalog. Rest in Peace, beloved SEB Steelhead hook…

I like supporting the “little guy,” in the back of my mind I preserve the fantasy of chucking the real world and retiring to some fly shop close to where trout sleep at night. It’s an unrealistic dream, but I still find a way to dump fifty bucks at even the smallest of destination shops, these guys are living our retirement fantasy and deserve the support.

It reinforces my notion that you should always buy plenty when you find something nice, you can’t put off the inevitable – but at least you’ll get another year before you get the bad news.

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As if the deck wasn’t stacked against fish already

You eat all that Calamari you ungrateful wretch Every father will resolve to take their kid fishing, spinach will end it’s run as the worst possible food Mom can serve, Tuna fish is going to be in every middle school lunch pail, and sardines will resume their rightful place on  supermarket shelves.

Fantasy? Not likely, every youngster caught with a girlie mag, or a sudden dip in school performance, and it’s  parental wrath with a side of Sushi. If the science is conclusive expect school cafeterias serving Gorton’s Fish Sticks for breakfast and Fillet O’ Fish for lunch.

The theory is fish oil (Omega-3) may help placate aggressive behavior, and will undergo clinical trials in three youth reformatories in England.

… capsule takers committed on average 26% fewer disciplinary offences than those taking a placebo and committed 37% fewer violent crimes.

If Mom isn’t already wadding capsules down the poor kids gullet in an effort to improve grades, wait’ll she reads about the effect on teenage offenders.

If true, it’s really going to suck to be a Tuna.

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She’s from Texas, she’s mean as hell, and catches bigger fish than you

FlyFishChick It was only a matter of time before the neighborhood went to hell, but I ain’t so sure it isn’t for the better. The timely addition of the Fly Fish Chick to the Fly Fishing Underground’s Writers Network, implies there’s an awful lot of middle age gut being sucked in, and even more chest being puffed out…

It’s been that way since middle school and we recognize you can’t help it.

It’s a good thing, now Tom Chandler has to write for a living again – instead of relying on soft porn “strumpet” posts, while me and Daytripper giggle and admire the body count. Those of you unprepared for that much vinegar, remember that Texican’s revere their womenfolk, especially those that can BBQ…

Make nice and visit.

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Once upon a time on an irrigated desert far, far, away…

An Oscar winning screenwriter in the making Nothing like clever lawyers and a wealthy client to add convoluted logic to an untenable position.

The large farm interests in southern California lost the last round of law suits and were forced to make do with less – less water pumped south to irrigate desert, and less to make the lush lawns of Los Angeles bloom year round.

The declining “Delta Smelt” was the root cause, protected by the endangered species act. Not content with this setback, the water districts are suing the Department of Fish and Game and the State of California for allowing a foreign species (Striped Bass) to predate on the smelt population, which likely is the real cause of the declining population.

As proof of this horrible crime, the document points to the DFG’s attempt to restore the Striped Bass population to its historic norm via planting.

I give them an “A” for creativity, and my extended index finger for environmental conscientiousness. Not only are the evil stripers the bane of delta smelt, but it could be they’re destroying the salmon population at the same time.

No mention that the striper fishery has gone to hell roughly at the same rate as the smelt and salmon, but that’s consistent with a good Hollywood script, omit the details that’ll make the story sordid.

I’m not sure who orchestrated the plan, an out of work screenwriter on a binge, or an astute legal beagle that has a helluva future in movies…

Stay tuned, there has to be a partially clad heroine emerging from the underbrush momentarily…