Category Archives: fly fishing humor

Not just restore the fishery, but Big Trout and the Lewis & Clark kind of stupid

lewis_and_clark_trail The lack of commentary on our previous article suggests fishermen are a stoic and heartless lot, unwilling even in the face of  insolvency to spend less of the government’s cash to balance budgets, bomb Libya, or any other semi-humanitarian act …

So we’ll pose the question again, this time with science insisting that were we only to close our most sacred fisheries for a couple of years periodically, we’d have more fish, bigger fish, and they’d all be stupid again.

You heard right. That fearless kind of  Stoopid.

Enormous hungry fish unafraid of the harsh glare from your Magenta reel, no longer skittish of your Orange-Orange florescent weight-forward hurtling overhead, and uncaring that your sticky rubber wasn’t – and while you wring the Didymo from your sandwich with much cursing, they’ll continue to feed unhurried and within arm’s reach.

” It seems that by closing the area off, communities may not only build up the amount of fish in the area, but make them easier to catch, which helps meet the goal of having fish for a feast. But this may pose a problem where temporary closures are used for conservation rather than community goals.”

“Our results highlight a previously unconsidered mechanism through which a rapid and large decline in fish biomass may occur when a closed area is reopened to fishing; reduced flight distance resulting from protection may increase some fish species’ susceptibility to spear fishing,”

– via PhysOrg.com

If science insists special regulations may be needed to protect all them fatties lolling in the current once the fishery is reopened, then it’s the closest thing to “guaranteed” ever.

Weigh the sacrifice before insisting on being heard. A couple of marginal years spent hardscrabble fishing for foot long federales, versus a couple years at a new venue resulting in unmitigated slaughter upon your return.

Think, Gents. How bad can a few days off your home water hurt, compared to the larger picture?

Fly fishing being a lot cheaper than most of us think

It was a nice enough thought, how to restore an aging libido who’d squandered his youth huffing aniline dyes and white wine vinegar. I’m not sure why the unsolicited advertisement suddenly put things in perspective, but figuring a $350 rod, a $60 reel, $200 worth of waders, and $500 dollars more in terminal tackle and flies, I’m thinking fly fishing is much cheaper than first thought.

Sure, we got roving gangs of middle aged civil servants stealing from our fly shops, and smashing our windows at pull-out points near the river, but when you compare fly fishing to some of those seminal moments of your life … kicking the kids out of your house, a Smithfield Ham, your first parking ticket, or the first time you used your medical marijuana card and scored something other than billy club … erection_pack

… it still worked out to be less than $7.50 per …

Whether it was Old School or New Age dating; $350 for the clothes, one or more pricey two-person dinners, $200 in gas and Pepsi, and $500 so the cleaning lady found and hid all your porn beforehand …

… all this so your average marriage can last eight years.

Figure the first half is “constantly” and the second half being “occasionally”, your lifetime batting average (with half your belongings paid out every 11 years) renders a “10 Pack” completely useless.

Like beer, when you’re young a 10 pack is half an hour, and in your dotage becomes an ambition, never realized.

As you fish between 9-12 outings per year, and assuming them to be weekends, you’re afield nearly 24 days per year, with a precision rod lasting a decade or more, figure four fish per day, that’s nearly one thousand fish for an $1100 buy in, pretty cheap for “the best entertainment you can have upright lying down, depending where you are in the cycle.”

Ripped lips won’t make a big enough hole

I remember reading a Flyfisherman magazine back in the Eighties that attributed the exceptional size and growth rate of the trout in some Pennsylvania creek to an upstream cheese factory, whose rich effluents imbued the entire waterway with curds and whey.

Sure, it was white and unsightly, probably adding a little foam to the fast water, and stank like sour milk in summer – but who wouldn’t overlook any indignity if it grew bigger trout.

We were young and gullible then, and assumed that occasionally fish could win an industrial-age lottery, and while most creeks were imbued with things that rhymed with curds, somewhere we’d achieve symbiosis, where the fish received something from us that assisted their growth, instead of retarding it.

fish_drugs

Now I’m questioning whether our UK brethren had it right all this time, that trout once stung by the hook will never take the artificial again. The only reason catch & release was ever successful is because the industrial age guaranteed both wastewater-borne and factory flushed – and we’d addicted a couple of generations of trout to painkillers, which neatly explained why they took our flies multiple times.

Pharmaceuticals turning up in streams and rivers have made headlines in recent years. Now for the first time in the U.S., researchers have shown that such drugs may come directly from plants that manufacture them. Research published in Environmental Science & Technology (DOI 10.1021/es100356f) documents that treated sewage effluent from drug makers can deliver to streams concentrations of painkillers that are as much as 1,000 times higher than levels in effluent from other sewage plants.

– via Chemical & Engineering News

Now that I’m aware of the issue, I’m not so sure I won’t lead with a couple of large rocks followed by a fleshy cannonball, it’s plain I’ll have to get down there and fight for my chemical teat, as them lazy arsed fish are deep and serene while huffing on leaky pipes.

… it’s either that or leave the barb up, once them mandibles are like a sieve it’ll be more for the rest of us.

And the Oscar for Fastest Thinker Caught Red-Handed goes to

Smallest_fishIt remains the “fatal flaw” of a slotted catch & release regulation, and as I clawed my way out of the water and hustled up the bank, I realized the warden had only to flick ash from his cigar and motion to his “boys” to cart me away – and I would be sharing the same bed as Bernie Madoff and his ilk …

My sin was fishing a catch and release venue that allowed fish bigger than 18” to be kept, everything else had to be released. These slot-style regulations are fairly common, given that trout over 18” are no longer considered the best breeders, and fish & game didn’t mind you pulling the occasional cannibalistic fatty out of the creek for bragging rights.

Unfortunately my delicate little #16 pheasant tail had lawful knowledge of a four inch trout, and when I set the hook, I sent the child skyward with great force to land in  the Star Thistle behind me.

Knowing a big fine and a cavity search would be in the offing, I did my best to salvage the fish, but the tall grass meant he gasped out his life somewhere in my general vicinity…

… with me checking the high ground for the tell-tale glint of binoculars.

Thankfully It was a vertical set, and I didn’t try something clever like “completing the circle” or roll casting it:

Regardless of size or how obtained, it is illegal to use any sport fish for bait. (Sport fish species listed on page 5). Minnows are defined as all fish, except sport fish species, less than 6 inches long.

… that’s illegal as well …

What I didn’t know is how close I came to setting another world record:

Lawrence Co., KY, USA — Fishing with a rod and reel (a fishing pole), angler Andy Pelphrey, 28, caught a Blacknose Dace measuring 2.4 in. long. and 0.9 in. round, weighing in at o.oo8 lbs. (3.5 grams) – which sets the world record for the Smallest fish caught on rod and reel.

A quick glance at the Kentucky Fish & Game laws suggest Mr. Pelphrey may have been sweating it as much as I did:

Sport anglers cannot use blackside dace, palezone shiners or relict darters for bait.

Which was likely what he was gasping frantically to the warden when they clapped manacles on him, “ … wor .. world record ..”

Damned quick thinking if you ask me.

Remember, it’s Infidel yellow

WASHINGTON – Khalid Ali-M Aldawsari, 20, a citizen of Saudi Arabia and resident of Lubbock, Texas, was arrested late yesterday by FBI agents in Texas on a federal charge of attempted use of a weapon of mass destruction in connection with his alleged purchase of chemicals and equipment necessary to make an improvised explosive device (IED) and his research of potential U.S. targets.

The affidavit alleges that on Feb. 1, 2011, a chemical supplier reported to the FBI a suspicious attempted purchase of concentrated phenol by a man identifying himself as Khalid Aldawsari. According to the affidavit, phenol is a toxic chemical with legitimate uses, but can also be used to make the explosive trinitrophenol, also known as T.N.P., or picric acid.

Dear Khalid,

Heard you were in some legal difficulty and figured to offer a bit of advice to your legal team. Virgins being in such scarce supply here in the US, I thought you’d trade a couple of those 40 you’ve been promised, should I do you this solid …

… besides, think of all the caterwauling and drama them gals would be capable of and the impact to your book study on how to use cell phone primers and lay det cord.

Can you say Green Highlander?

You might want to try the “I was only going to dye a lot of yellow saddle hackle for all those salmon flies I use in Lubbock”, but that’ll require a sympathetic judge – certainly one that fishes regular.

Your lawyer likely has a big dossier on all the federal circuit judges and can play fast and loose until you are promised a favorable venue, so I wouldn’t worry too much.

(… unless the trial is held within the boundaries of the state of Texas, in which case your ass is lipstick and you don’t know me.)

What I’d do is get a spare copy of Kelson’s off the Internet and study which of the old mainstays need the deep yellow picric acid provides. In a pinch, I’d refer to it as “infidel yellow” that way the interested parties listening to your testimony can discern the difference between your “cursed yellow running dog of an infidel” versus regular Banana yellow …

In fishing, a couple shades difference in color could mean the difference between frying fish, and frying like a fish – something them idjit Texicans are all too happy to introduce foreigners to …

Hope this helps.

Apparel promoting a lifestyle of sustainable beer drinking

The concept is sound, I donate 99% to the care and feeding of your lifestyle, you return 1% to something that allows underprivileged kids to kill even more fish…

Is that what you meant by angling charity?

My Inbox is a steady stream of anglers whose high dollar sunglasses perch fetchingly on carefully rolled curly-brim, who insists that membership in their company dictates I should be more green, more ecologically sensitive, more caring, and more demonstrative …

… with my paycheck, naturally.

In typical fashion, some well meaning Montana angler is concerned about the environment and invents strike indicators of corn yarn, which degrades nicely in water, is green as hell and absolves the brotherhood of  explaining why bobbers are necessary to catch trout given that their bright colors bob in the bankside grasses and line most of the landscape.

Knopp creates the indicators by cutting the yarn into lengths and tying a loop into the middle. Then he coats the entire product in an organic paste to help it float. The final touch is coating the loop in beeswax. He plans to package them three to a bag and sell them for $10.

That “lifestyle” tag is going to blind me to the fact that 100 yards of the corn yarn is $8, or that plastic bubble-style floats are five to the pack and a third the price of corn?

… and we daren’t mention we took bread out of the mouths of babes – corn being a foodstuff and better used as aid to some drought stricken province teetering on the brink, versus floating some fly down an expensive resort river, with that doubly expensive guide hovering over your every move.

So why is it that the “Green” idea always has to cost more at the register, can’t we feel strongly about the environment and undercut the bobbercator price versus always doubling it?

Jesus only requires 10% of your get, can Mother Nature be that much more in tune with inflation?

I’d love to limit my studies to insect lifecycles and ignore the faded Miami Vice pastel tee shirts at $25 per, each labeled with a fetching Catch & Release logo that I’ll have to explain to my girlfriend, who’ll think me a poor risk to be her baby-daddy and dump me before I can release her…

I recognize that Sesame Street filled your heads with the expectations that you’ll get some cookie too, but it appears that boat’s sailed and isn’t likely to avoid any iceberg.

As you skipped over history and aren’t likely to recognize real fishermen when you see them, here are the necessary qualities of an angling lifestyle …

lifemag_oldfish He gets an angling lifestyle …

Big bulbous nose, skin like a potato, foghorn voice, broken knuckles, thick clothing to keep out the constant chill, and enough broken veins in the nose to suggest a bottle close to the tiller …

… that’s the “steering wheel” for you lifestyle types …

 gaddafi … as does he.

… but only because all those protestors sprinted past his “line of Death” and he was forced to flee with most of the treasury in tow.

A few goats, a small cottage, and a leaking old boat should fool both the Mossad and the CIA , until the NSA cops to his ratting out Osama and their blanket protection. All the while the Montana legislature is falling over themselves to  rezone the Bitterroot to accommodate a log palace, given that “Mr. Gad-daffy” has elected to pay in uncut diamonds.

Anyone wearing sandals, a ball cap, or pastel shorts isn’t entitled to an angling lifestyle. You’re just avoiding real work, and lack any real flair for guiding or fishing outside of attempting to separate your client’s daughter from her underwear.

Sure there’s one born every minute, but not in this industry. There are few 401K’s and fewer health plans at fly shops, guiding is a young man’s game whose allure will wear off of all but the most gifted and diligent. The rest of us are college educated and at all levels of the real workforce, not the type to be easily impressed that you were able to roll out of bed before noon.

Should you acknowledge that some of us did all this before you graced the planet may make you understand why there are so many lawyers, bankers, and public servants … and so few successful fish bums.

A River of Ciggies and Frappachino runs through it

I’m thinking the only difference between the Trout Underground and my rag, besides his being able to spell, punctuate, and show real wit, is that TC is under 50, suggesting he’s victim to the occasional hormonal surge …

… so we get the occasional flash of round and bouncy, suggesting the gal might exist and sport an unnatural passion for portly and balding – versus my side of the Internet which simply dashes your spirits without the brief uplifting preamble …

… or the flash of skin. Age and maturity does that to old pricks.

Brit_SPears_Guide

Worse is the effect on the rest of the angling crowd; Dick Talleur and Sylvester Nemes exchanged looks before simply checking out permanently. Both were hanging on for the sequel to A River Runs Through It, now that Miss Britney is manhandling the script, greener pastures beckon.

The only good news is that in Kentwood, La – fly fishing contains ample Sonic burger and bait, and the white bucket ain’t for sitting on unless you’re binging or purging, or both.

The tail may wag this dog

Now that my likeness on your post office wall has been eclipsed by Edward Rist and his takedown of rare and exotic birds, and while my accidental brush with depravity rings hollow – compliments of a couple of gifted song birds and an imaginary affront to Audubon, the only way to reestablish myself as some form of natural history anti-Christ would be find something twice as rare and make flies with it.

Us fly tying degenerates being a vain crowd, proud of our hardscrabble hoarding nature, and determined to accumulate enormous collections of shoeboxes that hide the grisly remnants of odd fauna frozen in death. Unfortunately the competition is becoming fierce, with Jeffrey Daumer and Edward Rist making it tough to one up the competition…

We feel we may have rose to the occasion. It’s much tougher when there’s only one available, but it makes a sturdy and handsome tail …

Beard of the Prophet

… given this week’s callousness, it’s Hell I’m headed for surely, but which remains unknown. Hopefully Salman Rushdie has brushed up on his classics, as we’ve got a couple millennia of small talk coming .

To be safe we may want to nuke it from orbit

rotenone-pyrethrins I finished my read of the Yellowstone Lake plan the Park recently published for comment. In it they specify the need to remove invasive Lake Trout and restore the native Yellowstone Cutthroat.

Sure enough, our pal Rotenone coupled with gill netting will be the preferred fish killing method, gill nets deployed by a vendor in the lake proper, and follow-up chemical work for all the tributaries that lack some natural barrier to upstream migration.

I find it surprising that Fish & Game hatchery theory is predicated on us happy anglers killing our limit, but whenever they need to lay waste to a watershed – they never invite us to help ..

Rotenone effects both fish and invertebrates in largely the same way, especially prone are gill-bearing insects that derive oxygen from the water via beating of gills. Naturally that includes everything trout eat, so when the florescent green nasty finally is dissipated by a couple of sacks of Potassium Permanganate, it’ll leave a stream or lake mostly empty of life.

Despite Rotenone having been our chemical mainstay for fish killing for nearly 50 years, but very little science exists on the effects of rotenone on surrounding flora and fauna.

Some of that science is bubbling up unbidden given its linkage to Parkinson’s Disease. Likely making a lot of fellows at fish & game nervous and thinking of transfer from the chemical division back to enforcement …

While that topic is hotly debated, what papers we could find on Rotenone suggests that years are necessary before a stream returns to its historic insect populations, and some streams never return to their pre-poisoning levels.

Why is it so important? Because its use is on the rise given that we’re having to defend both shores and the interior from invasives. Running a multi-day slug of toxic killing agent through most of the tributaries and canals hosting an invasive critter is liable to intersect with drinking water and kids splashing merrily, and if they haven’t baked all that science thoroughly we all could be walking through Love Canal too – the Sequel.

The good news is that now that we no longer care about spotted owls, we can always park some Claymores around the last drizzle of water containing Tricorythodes … then camp in the fast water insisting we won’t budge in between fits of our teeth chattering.

The Unbearable Lightness of being a Rod Engineer

I’ve always thought lightness was among the most misunderstood qualities of fishing tackle. Manufacturers tell us how much better it is to have it, but I’ve always chalked that up to the engineer’s zeal – as it has little or no bearing with fishing.

I’ve heaved 12’ surf rods and a six ounce pyramid at striped bass for most of a day, and I’ve flung a 7.5’ #3 until darkness made me quit, and by day’s end both rods weighed heavy.

The lightest bamboo rod is still heavier than a graphite, a bead head nymph is heavier than its regular counterpart, a fly line can be a half size heavier, and while there are thousands of opinions and zealots that swear by one over the other, none will tell you that lightness outweighs the merits of what they prefer most.

… and if he’s fishing all day, no matter whether it’s saltwater or fresh, regardless of the terminal tackle being a nine weight or a five, all rods are heavy come twilight – especially so if there’s an uphill climb to the parking lot, or you’ve been skunked.

“Lightness” is something that engineers grow turgid over, while us fishermen look the other way and sigh.

with an ounce and an eighth added for balance

Knowing that the next ten days had forecast rain, I met up with a pal to see if we could find some fish. While I’m fiddling with my rod I glance down at [anonymous_meathead’s] weapon and spy three 3/8 ounce lead sinkers attached to the butt.

Images come unbidden, how that engineer rushes into his boss’s office out of breath, exclaiming, “Boss, I got this new resin made with superlight stuff, it appears as if it doesn’t screw up the existing stuff, so we can charge double for our stuff even though it’s half the weight of their stuff!”

… naturally the boss rushes to the elevator so he can tell his Boss in like frenzy …

Then how the marketing manager puts a handkerchief over his handset so he can call all his sales cronies at the other rod companies and claim, “your kung-fu is weaksauce, ‘cause ours is way lighter.”

Which later translates into a litany of superlatives used by hairdressers and chefs – to describe a good soufflé or chocolate mousse, but has little to do with fishing as the addition or subtraction of an ounce is something we do simply because we feel like it …