Category Archives: commentary

Habeas Corpus may apply to our beloved Asian Carp

I see it as tantamount to complete submission, just one more highly paid fellow standing around scratching his head when the Silvery Horde pours through the locks …

The White House has tapped a former leader of the Indiana Department of Natural Resources and the Indiana Wildlife Federation as the Asian carp czar to oversee the federal response to keeping the invasive species out of the Great Lakes.

–via Sacramento Bee

The reference to the former body politic for the Greater Russian Empire, whose family was dragged into the Siberian chill and shot, along with their doctors, maids, and servants, doesn’t breed thoughts of success, and may be partly to blame.

We’ve had security czars and drug czars but their job was easier. Dealing with human foibles or cravings is a sight more predictable than slowing the spread of a remorseless silver vacuum capable of eating half its weight each day.

“When it comes to the Asian carp threat, we are not in denial. We are not in a go-slow mode. We are in a full attack, full-speed-ahead mode. We want to stop this carp from advancing.”

I suppose like his predecessors, the Asian Carp czar will mobilize the military, carefully lining up phalanxes of mechanized infantry and their supporting cast, and unleashing holy hell on the Chicago River and its tributaries, until the environmentalists complain about the swans ingesting spent .223 – and calling a halt to the hostilities.

“Certainly there are some legal questions that are in process, but there has been a history already of good cooperation among the states,” Goss said. “I believe that will be one of my strengths, talking at the level of the department of natural resources in each of the states so that we can very carefully coordinate our efforts.”

It’s certain that I’m cynical and jaded and coloring this in the least favorable light, but this issue doesn’t have the years to construct some alternate system allowing commerce to flow from the Great Lakes downstream. Our sacrificial lamb and his meager 80 million budget are opposed by both people and fish, not merely the fish alone.

The extensive commerce and barge traffic of the region enjoys voting privileges, which can slow an aggressive solution just long enough to have the fish pour into the area with little or no opposition.

Once established and with free rein of the Great Lakes, everyone can throw up their hands and point fingers, then resume business-as-usual, free of the potential costs of portaging goods overland.

Attorneys for the defense countered that the DNA research has never been used in this manner and was unreliable. They argued that even scientists disagree about the likelihood that Asian carp are capable of sustaining a large and destructive population if allowed to enter the Great Lakes

It’s a repeat of the California Salmon debacle, where the interests of business are at loggerheads with the environment. Attorneys deny the most basic scientific tenets for fear of the financial implications to their clients, and despite plenty of consistent scientific opinion, the process drags on until ..

poof

.. too late, all gone. Now we can all go home happy.

Technorati Tags: asian carp czar, legal morass, great lakes, chicago waterways, overland portage, business vs environment, california salmon, habeas corpus

Given a decade of use, it works out to the price of my license

According to my jaundiced perspective, three hundred and fifty bucks is a fair price for a fly rod expected to last me a lifetime.

Figure a lifetime is about a decade or so – usually accompanied by a hammy handed pal closing a car door when you’re preoccupied extinguishing a fire or shooing flies off the cold cuts …

The both of you hear that sickening crunch at the same time, and he starts apologizing about a millisecond after. The best that can be hoped is that you’re closer to the end of the trip than the beginning, if not, you kick his ass and take his rod.

It’s the Law, in any water, blue or otherwise …

I wasn’t expecting to see much in that zone when I opened the Orvis flyer, and I was taken off guard to see their new line of Access rods for both fresh and salt – both filling the bill for a low cost serviceable weapon.

I am a sonofabitch as regards vendors, and am completely unapologetic for my opinions of their conduct. After 25 years and a half dozen fly shops, and with most of the industry cuddling up for fear of giving affront, mean guys are mighty few, making them especially valuable.

Mean has to be tempered with fair, and this is a step in the right direction. Given the economic maelstrom occurring outside the sport, and their stated desire to assist in bringing the halt, lame, and fishless into our beloved sport – you’d better have a comprehensive line of fair-priced tackle to back up that play.

I’d suggest the Access line appears especially comprehensive given the 10’ 4wt, and 10’ 5wt – which fit the tournament/Czech nymph rods that dominate Europe. The 10’ and 11’ 7wt sound like a nice answer to a two-hander – and a nice size to use for Capr and their saltwater cousins, and cater to us single hand types that are still better with five fingers than ten.

It appears the Access line will replace the aging TLS Power Matrix rods, which appear on their website at significant discount, likely in preparation for these new beasts.

I simply like the trend. Prices peeling back from the haughty nosebleed levels of 2008, and offering more than a half dozen models – created solely for the purposes of “we got those too.”

Full Disclosure: I’ve never seen, touched, or cast, anything described above, nor am I getting soft in my dotage, just saying is all.

Capr Orvis, Access fly rod, Czech nymph, fly fishing tournament, carp, bonefish, fly fishing

33% more Golden Pheasant, Free

The only way I can figure it is there must be two demographics for fly fishermen; the starry eyed fellow that approaches the counter with an eight hundred dollar rod and asks, “what else do I need?”

… and the mean old penny-pinching codger poring over the fly tying materials alternately swearing and grasping his chest like it’s the end of his world.

Last year we broke the thousand dollar rod barrier, and debuted a $12,000 titanium fly reel, so why is it that fly tying materials grow smaller with each passing season?

Fish hooks went from 100 packs to 50 packs and the price remained about six bucks, begging the question why didn’t they remain 100 packs and the price rise to $12?

The boxes were sized the same, ditto for the labels, so why couldn’t they just double the price and tell us to endure?

Guys like the Roughfisher could snort a 24 pack of Tungsten beads, chase it with his room temperature ghetto malt and have no ill effects. Twenty four beads is a warm up, it’s a snack – it’s not a “supply” or even a goodly amount.

With Whiting necks and saddles approaching the ninety dollar mark, fly tiers are used to the same price increases as the rod and reel crowd. We’re not going to unlimber a hog leg and start popping caps at the fellow behind the register – we’re aware of the steady drain to our pocketbook, as is the rest of the retail crowd, but outside of hygiene, we’re gifted with similar social skills and patience.

Material packaging is beginning to border on the unrealistic.

… contains approximately 1/2 gram per pack.

I need teal flank and find 12 feathers in the delicate glassine envelope. Three of them were damaged by gassing the plumage per USDA specs, the fellow dyeing them didn’t bother to pre-soak so the remaining feathers have brittle tips from a too-hot dye bath … I mash one getting them out of the baggie and find eight feathers of which three have the markings necessary.

What am I supposed to tie with that? My vacation is a week long and I get three of the “hot” flies to last me?

… 12 feathers per package

If I need more I incur the wrath of the fellow at the register. I plunk down the entire store selection – perhaps ten packs of teal, and he’s looking truculent because the Boss is going to make him restock.

Mostly because he’s only got ten fingers and these are twelve packs.

There was no sudden outburst of gunfire when fluorocarbon tippet rang the register at $15 per spool, about three times what the prior tippet du jour cost – and fly tiers being fishermen as well as craftsmen, bore the burden in silence or didn’t buy it at all.

With all these price-records shattered, why don’t you give us a quarter ounce of the feather, priced however much you want, so we don’t have to come back tomorrow for the rest of your inventory?

Even the beginning fly tier needs plenty of materials to learn routine procedures. With all the mishaps and rejects, his fur and hide cuts should be at least 16 square inches, feathers need to be at least a quarter ounce, and if he’s shell shocked by 50 or 100 packs, we’ve done him a favor by weeding him early.

Test – fly tiers, fly tying blog, fly tying humor, fluorocarbon, tungsten beads, Hardy titanium reel, Whiting necks, bulk fly tying materials

The fly fishing magazines continue to increase, our lunch hour is made whole again

Add Upstream to a crowded field of e-zines making their debut in 2010.

I liken the ezine conundrum to the current political spectrum, where Republicans and Democrats try to distance each other from the opposition, the administration, and their own party.

As each new magazine throws down their own unique brand, free of tired articles about indicator fishing, and espousing the “journey”, the “experience”, or “we’re not your Dad’s hobby” – I find the distinction losing a bit of allure.

It’s fly fishing that brought you to the dance, and I’d always assumed you should leave with those that brought you …

Numerous straw polls and statistics suggest the influx of new blood has been on a steady wane – and us current practitioners are growing older, wiser, and accumulating skills. We’re no longer the fresh faced novitiates who are struggling with wind knots and trying to makes sense of it all, and our impatience with the “same old articles” may stem from fluency with the technique – and having read six or eight already.

The existing print media takes considerable heat from nearly everyone, much of it well deserved, but I wonder whether they are the root of our dissatisfaction, or merely we’ve changed and are impatiently waiting for the literature to catch up.

Like you I read them all, yet have trouble verbalizing what I’d like to see – what prose or topic would make one magazine head and shoulders above the others and engage me completely.

The picture-based magazines ooze stunning photography and make me yearn to take better pictures, the “Red Bull” magazines make me wish I could chug an energy drink without making faces, and the “journey” magazines get me all maudlin then jar me with an ad for the technical clothing needed to fish bacon rind.

As fishing is such an individualistic exercise, what’s lacking is liable to be quite different from one reader to the next, but I’m still not seeing what I think I’m looking for …

I may be yearning for lost youth, where the mention of puce baboon bottom would send me in a frantic search to secure some, or that new knot that would fix all my monofilament ills, or new creek packed with giant voracious fish that I’d ignored enroute to some place further.

Older and wiser I recognize that fellow in the fog and half light would be the same fellow cursing me for low holing his pool, and the photographs are appreciated but skimmed quickly. The “Red Bull” crowd gives me the impression they discard their empties on the beach – while disappearing in a cloud of sand and hamburger wrappers. They’re skimmed and put to rest as quickly. The “journey” and “feelgood” attempts all feel good, until the advertising intrudes – and part of my journey includes a “tactical” shooting head and the “experience” of paying off a high priced venue or higher priced rod.

We want to feel your experience through your unique professional approach. If you’ve got a garden variety fly fishing story – we are not interested.

I suppose that once the graphite rod crossed the thousand dollar barrier, we were forced out of our hobby to join other pastimes whose professionalism includes the tools to ply our craft, and also the uniform – the accoutrements of social station.

Like golf being synonymous with double knits and headless hats … er … visors.

I welcome each new entrant into my reading itinerary, there’s plenty of lunch hours and ample time to digest each attentively, but I’m still unsatisfied, struggling with what’s missing and it may be nothing at all.

Cigars, food, dancing, Patagonia, what’s not to like?

Upstream magazine, fly fishing e-zine, fly fishing literature, garden variety fly fishing story, social station, fly fishing

Why your biggest Shad comes early in the season

It’s the fish you think of on slow days and rekindles flagging interest. It’s the fish that makes up for fussy trout and flies smaller than #20, it’s salve for a season of sunburn and mosquito bites, cures hangovers, and for a couple of too-short months allows us to focus on important fishing principles like spite and revenge.

It’s Alosa sapidissima, the American Shad – and while you may have fished for them hundreds of times, I guarantee you know less about their habits, food preferences, and history – than any of the other gamefish you chase regular.

Why? Simple, it’s a glutton for bright and shiny, shows little selectivity and is available in enormous numbers – so you’ve never had to wrinkle a brow or crack a book to be successful.

I’m the first to admit guilt, having asked the questions of those more experienced – and assumed they spoke gospel. Now with millions of the Silver Horde ascending my rivers, and with the next couple of months devoted to their complete and utter exploitation, I’ve no excuse not to learn more …

“Know thy enemy and know thy self and you will win a hundred battles.”

Much of the research on American Shad are from their native Eastern drainages, and it’s a story that doesn’t match well with what’s been relayed in idle banter on the river bank.

East Coast Shad are distributed as far south as North Carolina, yet multiple genetic strains are responsible. They are an anadromous fish, but in their southern range and warmer water – are like our Pacific salmon, spawning once before dying.

Colder water allows the fish to make the multiple migrations like the steelhead trout, with an average lifespan of about a decade. How long they can survive in the river is dependant on the sex and size of the fish when it enters fresh water, and measuring your local fish can assist in determining how long they’ll be present – and in a condition to eat your fly.

A rough calculation follows (length in mm):

Therefore, the average daily loss in somatic weight of
males was 1.63 g at 359 mm, 9.37 g at 493 mm,
and 5.75 g for mean-sized males of 428 mm. For
females the average daily loss in somatic weight
was 5.75 g at 421 mm, 18.87 g at 531 mm, and
12.47 g for mean-sized females of 477 mm.
Daily weight loss can be used to suggest how
long fish of different sizes can remain in freshwater
before death. The amount of weight loss which
results in death of shad is not known, but death
occurs in many animals when weight loss exceeds
40% (Curtis 1949).

If death occurs at 40% weight loss and it becomes morose and lethargic at about 30%, then a 359mm male (14”) that weighs about a pound, will not be interested in flies in about 82 days. Females lose weight even faster, so if you’re looking for the biggest fish you’ll need to fish almost as soon as they arrive.

… and you thought Science was for eggheads.

Shad feed in fresh water, but as plankton is less available they’ll opportunistically feed on aquatic insects, baitfish, shad eggs, and terrestrials.

Stomachs of fish collected upstream
from Port Jervis, N.Y. (295) in late May and June
frequently contained a few insects. I observed a
large mayfly hatch in late May 1964 near Hancock:
hundreds of adult shad were rising to the
surface, apparently to feed, and the stomachs of
many fish (about 50) captured by angling were
packed with mayflies. Similar surface feeding behavior
was observed on several other occasions,
although fish were not collected to confirm feeding.
Many adults captured during the Tri-State
Surveys contained recently eaten young shad and
shield darters, Percina peltata.

– from Weight loss, Mortality, Feeding, and Duration of Residence of Adult American Shad, Alosa Sapidissma, in Fresh Water – Mark E. Chittenden Jr.

Sacramento_Shad_stomach

The California Fish & Game department has confirmed Shad feeding in the Sacramento delta, and the results of their trawls of the Sacramento River and Delta are shown above.

A Mycid Shrimp

Which suggests there may be a couple of dozen other flies we haven’t considered – and the above lends a little credence to the red/white shad darts that have been effective for decades. Feeding habits are ruled by opportunistic prey and local conditions, and much science cites the link between small shad and terrestrial insects, and in many cases their stomach contents were disproportionately (greater than 20%) comprised of terrestrials.

Most migratory movement within a river system occurs between 9AM and 2PM, with numerous studies describing increased activity during daylight hours – and spawning commencing with dusk:

Females release their eggs close to the water surface to be fertilized by one or several males. Diel patterns of egg release depend upon water turbidity and light intensity. In clear open water, eggs are released and fertilized after sunset (Leim 1924; Whitney 1961), with peak spawning around midnight (Massmann 1952; Miller et al. 1971; 1975). In turbid waters (or on overcast days; Miller et al. 1982), eggs are released and fertilized during the day.

As my beloved American River is choked with spawning Striped Bass at nearly the same time, it’s important to note the tender regard for Shad held by the larger predatory bass:

A recent study strongly supports the hypothesis that striped bass predation on adult American shad in the Connecticut
River has resulted in a dramatic and unexpected decline in American shad abundance since 1992 (Savoy and Crecco 2004). Researchers further suggest that striped bass prey primarily on spawning adults because their predator avoidance capability may be compromised at that time, due to a strong drive to spawn during upstream migration.

– via American Shad, Chapter 2

shad_Nutrition American Shad also hold an esteemed standing in American history, largely because of their role in feeding Washington’s army at Valley Forge. Alosa sapidissima is translated as “Very Delicious” and a starving patriot could ignore all those small bones as it chewed better than frozen boot sole …

The 2010 version has a few percentage points in Nitrosamines and PCB’s but the gastronomic benefits speak for themselves. Oily fat calories capable of sustaining a nation on the verge of independence.

Fast food has since become the 51st star on Old Glory, and it’s Pizza Hut that nourishes most of Afghanistan and Iraq.

For the rest of us gourmands it’s the Indian legend that holds more weight than precious Omega-3 fatty acids:

Shad are richly flavored thanks to a good bit of omega-3 laden fat, but they are among the boniest fish in the world. An old Indian saying has it that a porcupine fled into the water and was turned inside out to become the shad. It is not far off.

Tags: American Shad, Tsung Tzu, Alosa Sapidissima, shad feeding in freshwater, American River, Omega-3 fatty acid, Mycid shrimp, fly fishing for shad, fly fishing blog

It could be the “Switch” rod what done it

It could be a California angling phenomenon, but I see more guys wearing pink than girls.

… and while fly line color continues to be debated with great ferocity in the forums, the SIMM’s G3 Guide vest in rust orange debuted with hardly a murmur…

Now that embedded jungle cock and spray of gaily colored feathers adorn our rod blanks ( along with a pancake layer of thick epoxy to guarantee a dead spot ) and brightly colored Fisher-Price artwork emblazon our reels, have we given up the stalk and seduction of fish in favor of a clandestine fling with a brother angler of like mind?

G3Guide Orange Flylogic Berry It could be the water, lord knows we’ve listed the offending hormones often enough, and what’s not been specifically mentioned can be inferred – but all this bawdy-house gear bespeaks of a fundamental shift in the angling psyche.

The old military gear, the olive drab’s and mustard Flecktarn, the muted earth tones designed to blend with bush or bank, the painstakingly crafted digital camouflage, all discarded in a race to announce your presence to the fish with authority.

It could be that the majority of the better streams have enough neon motel signs, fast food restaurants, and traffic lights on their banks that pine trees are outnumbered. The big fish lying doggo in Taco Bell’s riffle could associate bright with inanimate, and all the mobile green-stuff is markedly out of place and therefore hostile…

As the magazines and books probe fish vision further – alerting us to every nuance and twice for shortcomings, we change our flies to match ROSS Journey Fly Rod then storm through the quiet water like Liberace?

Be it fish, fowl, mammal, or human, the sacred tenet of Biology has always insisted the male displays bright colors to attract a mate. Which explains why money is green and credit cards are mostly in the vivid spectrum, red or blue, containing holograms or opalescence.

Fish are promiscuous – yet relationships rarely last past hook removal, so all this grandiose finery can’t be for their benefit, it’s apparently something deeper that is opaque to us odiferous Brownline types – yet is all the rage elsewhere.

As a Native Son, I care not about coveted glances or gang sign, I just need to know whether I’m supposed to pick a rod that is compatible with my cheek blush, or whether it’s the hue of my Manscara I need to match.

… the last thing I need is to see a fellow struggling with a tailing loop and offer a bit of friendly advice, and be met with, “STFU NoOb!”

Tags: Ross Journey Youth fly rod, Abel De Young reel, Simm’s G3 Guide vest, Flylogic reel, Sage Pink Camo, camouflage, invisible to fish, digital camouflage, Flecktarn, Fisher-Price toys

That’s all I have to say about that

On the hundredth post I asked, “I wrote 99, surely you can write one” – but it was an epic fail. I’d already run out of things to say after the 16th article and it showed.

Today marks my 1000th post and I know better than to ask what you like.

It was a simple and inauspicious start, the attempt to buttress meager writing skills, and I assumed a daily deadline would teach me to write in a harried environment – where I lacked the luxury of a compelling idea, or simply felt like it – rather I’d have to face the blank white screen when at my weakest.

My writing has improved a bit – it’s no longer halting so much as wordy or ill conceived – but in a couple more decades I’ll have graduated to pedantic or completely opaque – and have tossed punctuation to the curb.

Its been both difficult and rewarding and I shudder at reading anything from the night before – the obvious errors, wordy posts, vague detail, and glibness that seems less so on the seventh read.

I’d prefer doing “Celebrity Skin” – that way I could foist some grainy image as “Brooke Shields Nekkid” to an audience that was riveted to every post …

1000 posts, 4000 reader comments, and 30,000 spam messages blocked – hawking everything from hair restoration to amputee porn.

… which I ogled for completely scientific reasons, mostly so you didn’t have to …

Hey,
I am working on a promotional campaign for Xxxxxx.com and was wondering if you offered advertising opportunities on your site.

Can you please pass along an ad rate sheet or your pricing options, if they are available?

If you do not have established rates, I can definitely suggest some already-proven options that we’ve had success in the past with other sites. For instance, we have worked with blogs who have placed the following description to help spread the word:

“With just three simple steps a day, Xxxxxx the #1 acne system, combines real medicines with soothing botanicals. Strong enough to kill your most stubborn acne but gentle enough to use every day, Xxxxxx lets you enjoy the clear, radiant skin you’ve always wanted.”

… and then there’s the advertisers. They remind me of all the things I’ve seen in glossy print that jar me from a reverie on angling technique or the stunning environments I’ve never seen and never will fish, and remind me to walk a fine line on the commercial endeavor.

They get Singlebarbed humor in the same measure as the angling industry:

Thanks for the inquiry Xxxxx, but no thanks.
Singlebarbed is a fly fishing blog and while my readers may be afflicted with hideous acne, I prefer them to remain that way.

I liken this to a magazine of one. It’s a mix of everything that would never be printed in a real magazine (for good reason), blended with the power of the Internet – allowing me to discard the notion that magazines are monthly, that demographics rule content, and editors that insist on sex when it’s the punctuation that needs the work.

It’s likely I’ve offended plenty. I’m not shy about sharing my perception of inequities foisted on us by politicians, vendors, established aristocracy, and someone’s ill conceived notion of angling.

I believe that a fishing rod shouldn’t cost as much as they do – that a wading mat is stupid, that brand does not make the fisherman, that a tight loop is the result of years of chucking little stuff at littler stuff, and youthful arrogance and Extreme is the new Elitism.

Maybe it’s your lunch hour – or perhaps a stolen moment at work, in either case it’s been my pleasure to entertain.

By my count there were six worthy moments and 994 that started with potential and died a horrible death. We’ll do better on the next thousand.

Tags: Singlebarbed.com, blogging, 1000th post

Figure he outweighs you by 50 pounds before you get all indignant

We’re ill prepared to encounter someone interested in our fish – where our attempts to catch them interfere with others trying to photograph or paint fish in their natural surroundings.

As the Pristine dwindles it’s likely to put a great number of heretofore invisible wildlife lovers squarely in our path. and begs the question, who gets first dibs at the quarry?

Considering we’ve got a stellar track record of sharing secret fishing spots with each other not at all, I fear my reaction to a bird watcher or watercolor artist insisting I stay back from a pod of feeding fish would be confusing to me at best …

I was reminded by this piece from the UK, how a member of an angling club legally harvested a cormorant from the club water, then was accosted by militant bird watchers and beaten soundly.

… not all insect lovers, bird watchers, and water color artists are pansies, and they’ve got their share of louts and Visigoths too.

By default I’d have to cede the water to them as was there first, according the same privilege to other nature lovers that I’d give to the Brethren.

But their view of the proceedings and ours will not match, a lesson drilled home on a blind date some twenty years ago, wherein the comely lass was introduced to me by the shores of a lake.

Big mistake.

Our communal pal quickly explained my inattentiveness to the fact that I was a “great fisherman” … and when her lip started to curl, I knew I was raw meat.

Frantically attempting to salvage the occasion and mention, “I let them all go.” – figuring that was the one saving grace that might set things square. Her response was thinly veiled, “do you like torturing them?”

Figuring all those Big City gals shared the same mentality, where salmon are shat onto a Styrofoam platter and saran-wrapped via conscious choice – and coupled with the spectre of enforced celibacy, I was happy to change zipcode within the year.

It’s an unlikely topic, yet with all the pressures on these precious resources, a skirmish or two may be in our future.

Tags: trout fishing, watercolors, outdoor photography, nature lovers, sharing natural resources, raw meat,

That was some of the best flying I’ve seen yet, right up to the point where you got killed

Her icy gaze punctuated by the bony digit pointed in my direction …

Naturally, I tried the First Law of Backpedalling, innocence.

“ … What?”

I gazed around studiously avoiding That Which She Held, but I guess my look of innocence wasn’t quite up to par – or I’d gone to that well too many times …

I was Flat Busted.

I had counted on her being dazed by the glitzy neon of the Las Vegas strip. A whirlwind of shows, drinking, and pulling handles – and the ensuing hangover would buy me enough time to replace the sink strainer.

Umm, No.

Instead I’m in my kitchen looking “hang dog” while the Gestapo asks me to collaborate.

… and I’ve warned you often enough. Make sure you clean all evidence of dye from the important fixtures and linoleum – so you aren’t pinched in your first attempt.

Angelina & Sink discolor Me, thinking I was a Ninja Master was part of my undoing. The rest was the horrifying discovery that sink strainers contain Polyester.

… there’s no label on the damn things, how was I to know?

The Olive and Peacock blends strained fine. The Grannom Green didn’t leave a mark, imagine my surprise when the Scarlet (which looks very Orange) left a calling card.

Our modern everyday sink strainer appears to have about 10% polyester – just enough to revoke my parole, and land me in the crosshairs yet again.

I’ve mentioned the destroyed feathers, hinted at the strain in relationships, insisted that you’d be a Past Master within minutes – and even tried the Manhood angle.

But you fellows were smarter than I was, and while I’m watching the next nine sappy romantic comedies with one star or less, understand that dinner works – but hell hath no fury like a woman wanting popcorn.

… and I’ll be fishing quite a few Angelina equipped flies this year hoping to get the taste out of my mouth.

Tags: dyeing polyester, soft crimp Angelina, grannom green, fly tying materials, peacock, damsel olive, sink strainer, Las Vegas, flat busted

Where we distill the notion of the Young Angler

Dry Fly Distilling, for the Youth Meeting You’ve watched them gash bosom and plea with club personnel at every meeting. Each plaintive cry falling on deaf ears – and then some poor SOB that’s not there nominated to be the “Youth Coordinator.”

… a title reasonably vague, implying something to do with finding kids that want to unplug long enough to take up the sport.

It’s the greatest hypocrisy of all. Old guys hate kids, wives, and all familial responsibility, which is why they’re at the club in the first place. “Kids” being equally vague – as the usual measurement of years is often superseded by, “is the inattentive little twit related to me.”

Most of us have seen it, and many more have felt it. Perhaps its time we use that looseness in definition to our own ends.

I’m on the receiving end of a brief (albeit wheedling) email that insists it’s time to take some local gentlemen fishing again. This fellow being a work in progress, with an attention span of six minutes, reflexes of a Pterodactyl, with the appreciation and refinement of a Visigoth.

Kind of like a kid – only older.

It’s raining and cold outside, and I figure being housebound with spouse and kids has finally drove him over the edge. Only Wild Men intentionally expose themselves to inclement weather – and leaves me wondering whether we should be focusing on adults that haven’t fished – versus kids that would rather not …

I read further and his sudden passion is liquor related. Dry Fly distilling to be exact, which we assume tastes twice as good if you know how to fish – versus merely swilling it as a soulless Kayaker, or dog walker.

But we’re still golden. “Youth Coordinator” now being synonymous with wet bar and the tinkle of ice cubes, and whatever quota of recruits necessary can be shanghaied by them left standing.

… and the problem becomes keeping the regular membership distant. Compared to cramped chairs, congealing Beef Au Jus, and discussing the dining habits of Poodles with Bob’s wife, them youth meetings will be a lively affair.

Tags: fly fishing clubs, youth coordinator, Dry Fly distilling, artisanal liquor, Wild Men of fly fishing, club dinners, fly fishing humor