Category Archives: humor

Upstaged by a Frog?

Cameron Mortenson of The Fiberglass Manifesto recently gave away a set of the Precious, for any stalwart willing to tie midges. A worthy contest, liable to bring the worst of a fellow’s character to the fore – what with inhaled fly hooks, gossamer tufts of unmentionables, and everything requiring a microscope to see the craftsmanship.

… and we were upstaged by a frog?

As Cameron also runs the Fishy Kid website, this had better not be the mascot for same – as a “fishy kid” should wail in anguish, refuse to eat, and turn the carpet damp with tears …

No, Poppa … not the Scissors! (sniffle)”

… then again, a live Frog is pretty cool.

Tags: The Fiberglass Manifesto, Fishykid.org, Cameron Mortenson, fly tying scissors, midges

Things that dispense noisily that Bears won’t eat

It’s one of many angling axioms, how the outdoors-fishing ritual guarantees some unnatural food tucked away in a vest, or cooler, and daylighted with great trepidation knowing the catcalls and scorn that will greet luxury items from those roughing it.

A couple days worth of whiskers and yesterday’s underwear is about as close to Jim Bridger and Dan’l Boone as they’re willing to go, and reverence for the wilderness experience won’t slow them while they help themselves to your Big City larder and that bottle of fine brandy.

It ain't food unless it goes BLORT

Hardened urbanites prefer speed over flavor, evidenced by the growth of drive thru eateries. It may be time to fuse technology and  outdoor cuisine and give the traditional campfire fare a similar expedient makeover.

The threat of bears and lack of refrigeration eliminates “real” food from our repertoire, but Modern Science has provided us with Freeze Dried, desiccated powders we can recombine with creek water, and aerosol-extrusion whose tasty flatulence can now change camp life forever…

I call it “Blort” cuisine. Things that dispense noisily that bears won’t eat.

I’ve always found the Batter Blaster indispensable on my expeditions – and have christened it “Culinary Duct Tape.”

Any lip from “Mr. Roughing It” on the far side of the campfire and you give him a three second burst … flat tire? The Batter Blaster will seal the puncture and inflate the tire in seconds.

Shat onto a hopper hook, it makes a resilient foam body that can be shaped with a pocket knife into a dizzying assortment of terrestrials.

It’s chum for coarse fish, “silly string” for the kids, and any resemblance to actual pancakes is accidental.

Tags: outdoor culinary adventure, don’t try this at home, duct tape, roughing it,

Did that Mayfly just wing past hawking Taco Bell?

A German company unleashes tiny winged advertising on conventioneers, is this a portend of what fly shops will be springing on us come Opening Day?

 

The exploitation of farmed mayflies, each dancing about with a gaily colored banner, “A #16 Royal Wulff would’ve caught that fish, now on sale at Big 5.”

Bug activity has always been a welcome sight, but with insects outnumbering humans will we still think that way after a couple regiments of Taco Bell Hexagenia?

Tags: winged advertising, Taco Bell, Hexagenia, Royal Wulff

A Pale Shadow of a Man, the rise of the PIRM and his quest for outdoor supremacy

Metrosexuality and the rise of the PIRM Science claims you’re all pansies.

The “Post-Industrial Revolution Male”, whose big mouth, failing testosterone levels, and receding hairline mask a flaccid imitation of pre-Industrial Man. The surge of adrenalin that served us so well outrunning Sabertooth tigers, has dwindled to a sputtering trickle reserved for the driver ahead whose signal to merge has offended you mightily.

“…humans have lost 40 percent of the shafts of the long bones because they are no longer subjected to the kind of muscular loads that were normal before the industrial revolution.”

… implying a Cro-Magnon Steve Rajeff could have thrown his fly rod 236 feet impaling an unwary Impala through the eye … The same grain-fed post-Industrial version throws only the line a similar distance, kills nothing, and we’re awestruck.

Twenty thousand years ago six male Australian Aborigines chasing prey left footprints in a muddy lake shore that became fossilized. Analysis of the footprints shows one of them was running at 37 kph (23 mph), only 5 kph slower than Usain Bolt was traveling at when he ran the 100 meters in world record time of 9.69 seconds in Beijing last year. But Bolt had been the recipient of modern training, and had the benefits of spiked running shoes and a rubberized track, whereas the Aboriginal man was running barefoot in soft mud. Given the modern conditions, the man, dubbed T8, could have reached speeds of 45 kph, according to McAllister.

They were bigger, meaner, built from “whang” leather, and could run across the Savannah without pausing for drive thru’s or using Google Maps, surviving on warm pond water and a handful of jerked meat.

… which is the lecture every son receives from his Poppa when he reminisces of his generation and hardships .. It’s committed to memory, we endured it each time we asked for money or car keys.

The photographs showed Tutsi initiation ceremonies in which young men had to jump their own height in order to be accepted as men. Some of them jumped as high as 2.52 meters, which is higher than the current world record of 2.45 meters.

But real stress wasn’t associated with outrunning a dinosaur, it appears avoiding matrimony may have been just as strenuous …

“…women of the extinct hominids such as the Neanderthals carried around 10 percent more muscle than modern European men, and with training could have reached 90 percent of the bulk of Arnold Schwarzenegger at his physical prime. Her shorter lower arm would have given her a great advantage in an arm wrestle, and she could easily have slammed his arm to the table.”

Which is the reason that aborigine was doing “45 in a 25.” It’s plain that our paternal ancestors organized early, initiating some type of selective breeding and evolution has given us an additional nudge. Women have necks, smell sweeter than we do, and I’ve not surrendered the remote from my nerveless, flaccid grip in weeks.

Tags: post-Industrial Man, Arnold Schwarzenegger, Neanderthal matrimony, Steve Rajeff, aborigine,

Tying the Lead Winged Pump Action

When queried about his Guinness Book of World Record attempt for most fish caught while chugging a ‘40’ “, Bob “Gutslammer” Muldoon grinned disarmingly and said, “it was like shooting fish in a barrel.”

Lead Winged Pump Action

“I used a favorite ‘Lead Winged Pump Action’ in size ‘double ought…’ presentation is everything, unless they’re drilled dead center you can’t claim it’s Organic.”

Lead in your Sushi

Now I’ve got to worry about Mercury and lead in my Sushi. I don’t think I’ll chew with as much authority as I once did – what with old Bob dispensing justice the way he does …

Tags: Organic Tuna, fish in a barrel, belt fed, Charlie buys it, things you can’t un-see

Welcome to the Brood Stock

Lies, Damn Lies, and Fishermen Fishing statistics are so rare I can’t help but pounce on them when offered. Like most pitchmen I’ll spin the numbers to prove something horrific and discard the facts enroute to a shaky conclusion.

This time it’s the Recreational Boating & Fishing Foundation (RBFF) and the American Sportfishing Association (ASA) who’ve commissioned Southwick Associates to reveal that despite the poor economy, sport fishing license sales are on the rise.

As of September 1, 2009, state fish and wildlife agencies reported a 7.7 percent positive change in the number of licenses sold year-to-date compared to the same months last year (January – July 2009 vs. January – July 2008).
The same states also saw a seven percent increase in the number of licenses sold in July 2009 compared with July 2008.
  

I’ll take the dim view of the above increase. Two factors come to mind; most of the Atlantic seaboard is now required to buy a license to fish from shore (new this year) – and the rest may be economics, fish are “free food” and other parts of the world have had a similar boost in rookie fishermen.

… and there was more about us fly fishing types. We’re white college graduates older than 45, make $100,000 a year, and male. We fish five times a year less than other types of fishermen – and are obsessed with meeting a female fly fisherperson that doesn’t exist.

There was no information as to whether we’re underwater on our mortgage or the financial health of our imaginary dream date. Per capita there are more fly fishermen in the West (especially the West Coast) – so if you’re looking for love the East Coast is strictly “bro-mance” turf.

Fly fishing statistics

We’re also growing fewer in number. Which could be explained by our discovery that everyone else spends $167 a year in tackle, and we spend ten times that and fish less…

The Good News is there are 146 million kids under the age of 18 playing fly fishing games on Nintendo and Wii. Unfortunately the game is flung aside after four minutes.

Face it, we’re the Brood Stock … and that ain’t saying much.

Tags: Lies, damn lies, and statistics, angling trends, recession based economic pressure, catch and kill, fish as “free” food, Southwick Associates, Recreational Boating & Fishing Foundation, American Sportfishing Association, brood stock

What’s up, Dawg?

What's Up, Dawg! Us native Californian’s pride ourselves on being at the forefront of the next great trend – even marginal ones, just so we’re seen as holding up our end…

… and a pear shaped angler trudging through creek bottom just doesn’t offer the same opportunities as the hard-bodied ultra-consumer crowd – as they troll the beach admiring their reflection in the rear view…

Now I’ve got my own statement, hydration pack lipping full of lemon slices and Fortifido water.

I opted for the “natural Spearmint” assuming that if it can make a dog’s arse fresh – it’d tame the sour taste of cheap cheroots and alkali dust.

I may opt for the Peanut Butter if that doesn’t work, as Parsley sounds a mite off-putting.

We can emerge from some muddy rivulet knowing our skulking days are over, we’re “kissable sweet” – it’s only the rest of us that smells like hell.

Tags: Fortifido water, dog water, brownlining, trendy, wasteful, Peanut Butter, Parsley

Now if they could just do something with discarded water bottles

The Milk Crate Angler Angling art takes many forms and covers multiple mediums – yet only the Pristine seems worthy of immortalizing.

Us fellows that trod mud amidst the savagery of the rural-urban interface rarely see much celebration of our craft.

Recycled milk crates strike a special nerve – mostly because we’ve waded through their neatly ordered phalanxes below bridge abutments.

I consider it “gravity-based Moderne”. I like the concept, industrial art mixed with reservation of a favorite riffle … the Milk Crate Fisherman.

Tags: milk crate fisherman, rural-urban interface, angling art, gravity

Plight of the Living Dead – George Romero’s ode to Brownliners

The scorn of the fly fishing elite we could shrug off, but brownliners as role model for the latest Zombie flick is applying the boots to our prone form.

It wasn’t the steady persecution nor threat of harm, our numbers were thinned steadily by enraged spouses wielding bars of Ivory Snow. A fellow can only take so many “hose-downs” on his front lawn with neighbors a-titter before he holds his manhood cheap …

It’s proven fact that Mankind cannot survive a Zombie invasion, but us fishermen have always assumed we’d be aligned with the screaming survivors – as Hollywood insists most will be comely high school babes who deserve better than being the entree …

I figured I’d go out like the grizzled old “reptile” that blazes trail for the escapees compliments of a D-9 Caterpillar and a fully loaded fuel truck. He always gets it in the end, but this wise old fellow sacrifices everything knowing that holding a conversation with them gals is worse than living death …

Tags: George Romero, Night of the Living Dead, Zombie menace, Brownliners, zombie fishing, Youtube, teenage girls, shudder