BAD FISH

2010-04-13T08:59:00.000-07:00

Back in the swing.

2009-12-14T12:16:00.000-08:00

It seems like its been too damn long since I have been fishing. In reality it HAS been too damn long since I have been fishing. I missed out on some the best the north west fall has to offer and found myself staring the tumultuous beginning of winter steelhead season right in the face.

I had a damn good summer and fall for flinging flies and now its time to pay penance; to cold rivers, and a fish that is on the verge of extinction. Frigid cold days swinging a fly that resembles nothing found in nature will cleanse the memories of easy summer fish from my mind. long - cold hours of wondering if my fly missed a fishes' strike zone by inches or feet, (or if there was a strike zone in the first place) will melt my confidence as a fellow who knows how to catch a fish or two.

The only pleasure I am allowed, is the "aaahhh" feeling as my running line snaps tight against the spool of my reel after making a good cast, and perhaps the resolution that I did my best after swinging through a good piece of steelhead water. May be if I am supremely lucky, or blessed- a legendary fish the color of steel will see fit to smash my simple offering of fur, feathers, barbless hooks.

To land it would be a hope far too ambitious and greedy for a neophyte such as my self. just slam the fly, shake your head, and say goodbye. Thats all I want. That seems to be all I live for this time of year. A small token to prove; that yes, I am indeed learning. yes I am doing something right after all, and this festering cesspool of insecurities that resembles my own wader clad self while "trying to hit it right" is only an illusion created by a fishery on the brink of collapse, and a population of fishermen reaching overflow, or a body on the edge of hypothermia.

Until that "SLAM" which I know is waiting for me somewhere and somewhen in a winter river, I practice the cast, the swing, and pay my dues in a world where sometimes there isn't a pot of gold at the end of the rainbow or a steelhead ready to bite.

Either way its good to be back. Its good to be cold. and its good to be fishing the winter.

2009-11-17T13:42:00.000-08:00

He is as articulate as the flies he ties...

He once tied a fly; while casting it...

He mastered the three handed spey rod...

He once swam upstream to spawn, just to see what it felt like...

He is: The most interesting customer at the fly shop.

Stay slimy my friends.

Steeheader's phrase association

2009-11-10T14:15:00.000-08:00

Overheard at Rusty's fly shoppe and emporium.

Q:$300 dollar spey rod? A: Not as good as a $800 dollar spey rod.

Q:$800 dollar spey rod? A: What every one at the hatchery hole uses.

Q:spey reel? A: doubles for black marlin fishing.

Q: Drag? A: when I have to cast in front of people... that I know.

Q: click pawl reel? A: I need one and I don't know why, I just do okay!

Q: spey cast? A: can I buy that at the shop too?

Q: favorite casting method? A: roll cast

Q: Double spey? A: if there is a rod that cost's twice as much Im pretty sure I need it.

Q: snap T? A: I snagged my face.

Q: grain weight? A: my beer gut after spending all winter at the bar talking about spey casting and winter steel head fishing

Q: Scandinavian style? A: talking dirty in a swedish accent.

Q: Skagit style? A: fishing while wearing a Nascar hat, Slayer cut off T-shirt, and drinking Old Milwaukee.

Q: price tag? A: guide to quality.

Q: Steelhead? A: trendy

Q: functionally extinct? A: steelhead

Q: overpopulation? A: steelhead fishermen

Q: swinging? A: not just for pervs in the 70's anymore

Q: nymphing? A: someone said its bad, they were wearing a patagonia jacket, so I effing believe them.

Q: indicator? A: thats a bobber! bobbers are the devil! im not sure why though.

Q: backing knot? A: haven't seen it since I tied it a couple years ago.

Q: Latin name for steelhead? A: Oncorhynchus Mykiss

and finally....
Q: Latin name for a spey-tard in the presence of a real steelheader?

A: Mykiss Uranus

LETS GO FISHEN' FOR REDS!: DRUM

2009-11-04T19:25:00.000-08:00

An awesome preview from worldangling.

YARD WORK

2009-10-28T15:29:00.001-07:00

Now here is something you don't see everyday. The neighbors black cat (whom dutifully crosses my path everyday) stalking a white rooster pheasant. If I were just a tad bit more superstitious I would take this as some sort of ominous sign (good versus evil at the crossroads) but instead I took it as an opportunity for yard work.

It has been nearly nine months since Guff's accident. a few grand, a couple pins, and a lot of physical therapy he is as good as new and more than ready to start hunting again. which he proved as we followed the pheasants scent up into the wood lot behind the house and Guff dog showed me he remembered all his training as he locked up and held point without a WHOA being said.
Alright... He remembered most of his training. After being good enough to stand over an incredibly dumb pheasant while I snapped way too many pics, Guff decided enough was enough and pounced.
The pheasant practiced common sense and fled the scene. The orange splashes on it back reminded me of the setter that came before guff, A beautifully wise orange belton named Aspen. The cackling and slapping of wings through brush while the bird entered the fall sky reminded me of my old springer spaniel named Decoy, who passed last year.

Thank God for october, pheasants, and silly bird dogs.

ZOMBIE CREEK: DAY OF THE SWIMMING DEAD.

2009-10-23T10:03:00.000-07:00

Last week I approached my favorite Cutthroat stream with trepidation. All was still. Signs of life normally heralding a sea run cutthroat stream in the prime of the year were absent. The creek was dismally low for mid october, and various tokens of the hard summer stared up at me from the drying banks. There was still water but in some places there wasn't enough to create a current let alone a riffle.

I approached the first hole with an october caddis that needed to be used before november on a willing cutthroat. The sight that unfolded before me was almost sickening. There they were, in the hundreds all packed on top of each other like a coven of vampires. They snapped and thrashed at each other each, humped backs baked and tattered in the sun as long teeth glimmered. One would violate another's personal space only to be clutched in ratty jaws with grey and black receding gum lines.

Although this could be easily confused as George Romero's latest attempt at an Zombie flick, it wasn't...This was my favorite creek during the aftermath of Washington's fabled 2009 Humpy run.

It all seemed like a fisherman's deal with the devil gone awry in a predictably classic way. a month ago the humpys were bright and shiny and everyone wanted a piece of the action. Those omnipresent pink spoons were bought by the thousands. Any scrap of fly tying material even close to the color pink was devoured by fly fisherman hungry for the little slimers known as Humpys. But its all fun and games until they change with a puberty that would make any teenager's seem like a pleasant memory. The males sprout that famous humped back, and their snouts grow long, with gum lines that peel back to reveal fangs made for fighting... And the love affair soon ends with fisherman. Many regard them as a nuisance that keeps them from catching more desirable species.

I even grumbled at my favorite cutthroat creek becoming humped. The cutthroat were there most likely gorging on salmon eggs. They would ignore bugs, and if I swung a egg pattern I would undoubtedly snag a salmon, and the salmon were having a rough enough time as it is.

The bright side to all this is that there is a ton of bio mass in the river to feed the next generation of cutthroats, steelhead, and salmon. next year should be amazing. But how did this one species thrive when other coastal salmonids are failing? The Washington Dept of Fish and Wildlife says it is because they DON'T manage them... WTF??(!)??

Since my last visit to the creek we received a hard rain or three and the creek should be clearer now. Carcasses of humpys that died after spawning or in vain should wash away into the log jams. In few months time this wealth of fish stink, slimy bodies and life will be a fading memory.

2009 Drake Fly fishing Award winner

2009-10-21T09:38:00.000-07:00

winning clip for the 2009 Drake Flyfishing Awards: "ONCE IN A BLUE MOON"

I dont know about you, but this clip gives me goose bumps every time I watch it.

Well done... Well done!

Catch and Decrease Procrastination

2009-10-15T10:44:00.000-07:00

"So its come to this... I thought we were friends." I grumbled out loud to some indifferent lilly pads, as I struggled to tie another 6 feet of 6X tippet to an already twelve foot leader.

My fly of choice (or rather my fly of circumstance) was #20 emerger. I don't even know why this fly was in this particular box that was already bristling with chuggers and bunny leeches. It just happened to fall in I guess.

Rearing back to try the dry fly hat trick - long leader, extra long cast, and only a little backcast room- I did my best to put some distance on that tiny fly. false casts turned into double hauls. wind and line resistance dictated the rhythm of my body into the only dance steps I have ever been able to master. and then when an impossible amount of line whistled out before me, I let go. 6 weight line and silky thin leader straighten out with a tiny deception on the end. it hovered over the water for second as I watched for various kinks (painstakingly ironed out) to reappear, as my bright green parabola became a parabole. It looked perfect, it was perfect. It was one of those casts that you knew would settle on the water with barely a ripple. And it did, after it spooked the hell out of the school of fish I was after.

late in the season as water clears for winter, its a well known fact that fish get spooky. Especially if they have been dwelling in a catch and release environment where every lure or fly known to man has dragged them from the water... But a nearly 20 foot leader with 6X tippet spooking a bunch of bluegill, just by casting over them and not actually touching the water was something I just couldn't quite wrap my mind around. And these weren't even ultra wary trophy bluegill, these were quarter pounders! The bass lurking among the reeds weren't much bigger either.

I grew up fishing this pond and the ancestors of these fish. This is where catch and release became cemented in my brain. Not because it was trendy or I was trying to reach loftier plateaus of fly fishing, but because I did the math and realized that: #1 if you keep taking fish there will be less fish to catch #2 I enjoy cleaning and cooking fish less than I enjoy eating them, and I really don't care for the flavor of most of the fish I pursue. Over the course of decades where I caught and released the ancestors of these fish, I watched them become progressively more wary, until under the right circumstances they have a hair trigger that could rival that of a permit or bonefish. Their prying eyes left me skulking in the bushes, one wrong move could make every fish boil the water in flight.

I have also watched the progression of these waters that nature was left to cull. I fished it when the bass first showed up. I fished it when they grew to mammoth size (for western washington ponds) some reaching eight pounds, which is a good bass size anywhere. I have seen three pound bluegill and 2 pound perch pulled from its meager depths. and I have also seen what happens when overpopulation occurs and almost everything dies, leaving you to wonder what the hell happened.

The perch and crappie are all gone now, haven't seen one in years. all that remains are a bunch of smallish bluegill and half pound bass, in great quantity. I planned on doing my best to clean the pond out this summer, but I got sidetracked with other species and other locals.

And now its October just before the monsoons. The bass and bluegill are hungry and wary, cruising in schools before the cool weather puts them down, and Im fishing for them with a 18 foot leader and #20 emerger of all things, after they spent the summer being caught and released by well meaning anglers. Procrastination is a hell of a thing.

Moral of the story: when Catch and Release is a choice, stop and ponder if your really doing the fish a favor, once in a blue moon your not.

still tripping on MT

2009-10-12T14:26:00.000-07:00

don't muck with the spawners!
rock wall at rock creek
the fish that would not be caught or the cast I couldn't make
is that a bighorn sheep farm?
get out my way!!

bugs everywhere!
1st MT brown

Julie's white fish, and a damn fine whitefish it is!

brown

westslope cutthroats
token badfish underwater shot

a streamer smashing tiger trout!

the end of a "brochure day" on the Bitterroot
Forest fires
The Bitter root in downtown Hamilton

2009-10-12T13:19:00.000-07:00

About a million years ago, (1992 if you want to be precise) a much younger, more innocent Badfish stumbled out from a movie theatre. He was all starry eyed and in rapture because he had just seen the most amazing cinematic event his twelve year old eyes had ever soaked up and burned into his soul. After watching the movie a few more times in theaters and really thinking about what it all meant; he proclaimed to the world (which consisted of a couple dogs, a fishing buddy and parents) that from this point forward he was strictly a fly fisherman and would be moving to Montana at his earliest convenience. Only the dogs really understood the gravity of this vow. THE MOVIE, of course was "A RIVER RUNS THROUGH IT"

In the course of years that followed (many fishless) I did manage to stay true to the part of my vow that I would only fly fish (even at twelve I could fathom pretentiousness, but remain unashamed) but Montana never happened. The chance to visit with a fly rod in hand eluded me as lack of time and money and steelhead mania traded blows on my young psyche. Sometimes I would have the time, but no money. Sometimes I would have the money but no time. and Sometimes the native Salmonids would eclipse my dreams of real western trout fishing in a setting that was almost a make believe story land. And thats almost what it became. My grandiose ideals of what montana could or should be, threatened to get

bigger than the big sky country itself. I can say with some shame that part of me was afraid to go there and have the whole dream crushed... then what would I have? Smelly, dismal reality?

Well last week it finally came about. My tour guide/ girlfriend Julie, delivered me to Montana and it was all that I had ever hoped for, which is a bold statement for someone who is notorious for expecting way to much out of things to begin with. We stayed in the town of Hamilton (Julie's home town), where her great grand father opened MT's first Jewelry store back in the day, and where her Grandfather fly fished until he caught his first stocked trout in the Bitterroot river and put away his fly rods for good. hamilton is a bigger-small town and aside from marginal coffee, it has all the amenities that I deemed righteous and holy, (under the right circumstances I would never find the need to leave Hamilton).

Aside from amazing fishing for west slope cutthroats and browns I did manage to catch one of the few "Im pretty sure things can't get better than this" moments in my life. We were warming up at the Barnes and Noble in Missoula after catching some browns at rock creek, and I happened to find the one John Gierach novel I was missing... smelling like trout, drinking starbucks, and reading Gierach IN MONTANA!??! Im sorry but, things just don't get any better than that. I was at my height of glory.

I could write volumes of the wildlife and scenery and fishing and then more about the fishing. or how my hands trembled when I landed my first trout in montana

and it just happened to be a brilliantly colored brown with blue tinting about its face. or about the bear that came face to face with Julie while I was yards away with german browns on my mind. I could write about the hillsides smoking from forest fires. or a sublime moment with a Double Haul IPA after catching my first tiger trout. or the trout I spent two hours trying to cast through the wind to. or the best fried chicken I ever had after enjoying fried chicken for nearly 29 years. Or how Julie caught her first white fish and was thrilled to death with it, and how i wished to find that kind of joy while fishing again. I could write about bighorn sheep that refused to get out of the way. or how I spent 60 bucks on flies and only used the ones I tied at home... Perhaps someday I will. But for now Im still digesting it all, with nothing but some chewed flies on my hat brim and some pictures to prove to myself that yes, one of my dreams really did just come true.

WAGONS EAST!

2009-10-02T22:34:00.000-07:00

Well were leaving the pink salmon choked rivers of western washington to rainy, snowy, Hamilton Montana!

This will be my first trip to MT with a fly rod and I hope to teach the indigenous trout there a thing or two about fly selection. In the words of BORAT " I excite, I excite, I am so excite"

See y'all some time next weekend! And here' s a preview of what's to come at bad fish.

Recreational fishing access at risk: some vague and ominous news to chew on.

2009-10-02T14:57:00.000-07:00

apparently word is spreading about a bill that's in the works. One that "MAY" threaten recreational fishing access on american waters. From what I gather- "IF IT'S ACTIVATED", the snowball effect could spread like wildfire down a slippery slope and really cramp our style. In hopes of not creating wide spread panic and paranoia I have supplied these two links for you to consider and "POSSIBLY" freak out about. Just remember it's not cool to kill the messanger.

One from ESPN and the other from KEEP AMERICA FISHING.ORG

Billy Connolly on Catch and Release.

2009-10-01T11:29:00.000-07:00

There is more to Mr. Connely than Boondock Saints. He's swears and fishes too, plus he has some great stand up SH@# so for all you Mother F@#$ers with godd@#$ children present, please tell them to put on their Mother f#%#en earmuffs on.

IS IT OCTOBER ALREADY?

2009-10-01T07:46:00.000-07:00

october caddis, dog racing, and rock-paper-scissors... what more do you need?

snagged from BUSTER

and since Im in the snagging mood, I will set my weighted treble hook firmly in the side of a MOLDY CHUM and show you this little snippet of fly fishing irreverance

and the CHUM snagged the previous flick from the HOBOSOUL where they have more ideas for corn than highly entertaining campsite explosives.

Hannity: SMELT BAD!

2009-09-30T12:37:00.000-07:00

what's more important a little Smelt (AND SALMON!!!!) or farming in the California desert?

Mr. Hannity says smelt are the downfall of California farming and the upswing of the "California Dust Bowl" a misrepresentation pleading for Obama to turn the water back on for Cali, and off for the fish. draw your own conclusions with this reading material highlighted HERE

or if you would like to see some Daily Show tom foolery on Hulu, complete with a trojan condom commercial- slam your mousy right here

THE RUNNING OF THE PINKS

2009-09-29T12:26:00.001-07:00

To quote the Redheaded Stranger (thats willy nelson, fool) "Turn out the lights, the party's over"... well almost. The bulk of the much touted and participated humpy run is winding down. sure there are a few bright ones coming up the river but nothing like it was a few weeks ago. Soon the masses with their omnipresent pink spoons will forget all about the humble pink salmon and turn their collective meat lust towards other critters that are easy to take advantage of. And the humpys themselves turn from smallish-shiny salmon to lycanthropic - tooth covered, hunchback creatures born for redd protection.

And why is it that fly fishermen in some circles scorn the pink salmon? I have heard some people bragging about how they managed NOT to catch one during their outings on the rivers. I suppose every sport fishery has a bastard stepchild. Warm water species have the bluegill. The disciples of trout have the brookie. and the salmonid fisherman have the humpy. all three of the afore mentioned fish are regarded as kid stuff; meaning they are great for beginners, easy to catch, and so plentiful even the most devout soap box screaming advocate for catch and release will say: "oh what the hell, lets take some home and have a fish fry, just don't tell the chaps at the club".

I however love them. I have caught so many that it almost stopped being fun (and there in lies the crux). And I am proud of it. soon I will petition to the Official Board of People Who Name Things -OBPWNT- for a name changing of the pink salmon. Even the fish's name sounds insignificant and demur... Pink (goes with out saying as pink is not the color that manly sports men indulge in) and Humpy just sounds like the name of a cartoon character or dog with an over active yet unrecognized libido. I think "The Super-Aggressive-Alpha Salmon" has a nice ring to it... maybe I will work on that one a little while longer.

In the mean time if you are looking to have some fun with a fly rod there is still a little humpy-fun to be had. and who doesn't like to have fun? Just try not to take yourself so seriously.

save the Deschutes: local boys do good.

2009-09-29T12:00:00.001-07:00

Im not talking about THE DESCHUTES in oregon, but the little Deschutes that runs through Tumwater and Olympia. I have often felt this was my home away from home river, a brilliant fragile fishery where the whoppers come to those who work for them, and to those that understand what a whopper really is in this small fishery.

Chester Allen of the Olympian, teamed up with local (and Washington fly fishing.com member) Andrew Weiser to blow the whistle on a nearby golf course for dumping waste into my beloved river. Thank you chester, for looking out for the little guy.

for the full story click your mousy right here.

A FISH STORY MEANT FOR GRINDHOUSE.

2009-09-29T10:09:00.000-07:00

while a lot of this story leaves me crying BULLS@#T, I can believe some of what was said, as eels just plain give me the hee bee gee bees. but most of it is probably just bad press and Im sure PETA will write a dirty letter to the Sea breeze News team for printing this barbary (after PETA is done milking mommies for making some animal friendly chunky monkey)

you can draw your own conclusion here

we always thought PETA was crazy but now we can see thier nuts.

2009-09-24T13:32:00.000-07:00

PETA, people for the ethical treatment of animals has alway been Particularly Egotistical and Total Assholes, not to mention effing CRAZY, and since their recent "Save the Sea Kitten" campaign few people took them seriously. but now they are trying to mess with our ice cream. Those bastards! A recent letter from PETA to Ben and Jerry's (beloved makers of good and unusual ice cream) asked them to switch from cows milk to human breast milk(!)

Tenkara???

2009-09-23T18:52:00.000-07:00

What is Tenkara?
I find it most intriguing
More Tenkara please

Tenkara in action.

2009-09-23T15:28:00.000-07:00

for those of you who were wondering or just plain didn't know Tenkara really does exist.

A little taste of some bent rod goodness

2009-09-23T15:09:00.000-07:00

from the folks at bent rod media, the same people who brought you the cult classic "Our Friend Dave"

DOG FISHING

2009-09-22T21:46:00.000-07:00

Eventually, all things merge into one, and a retriever runs through it.

Another bad seal...err sea-lion

2009-09-22T19:08:00.001-07:00

BUT NOT TO WORRY, THE SEA LION WILL GET WHAT HE DESERVES!

THE GRAPES OF TOOL.

2009-09-22T13:00:00.000-07:00

Maynard James Keenan cofounder of super cool rock bands like TOOL, A Perfect Circle, and more recently Puscifer; teamed up with Eric Glomski and created Arizona Stronghold Vineyards. They also cooked up a movie detailing the trials and tribulations of their latest venture called "Blood into wine". check out the trailer, after all what is more fly fishing related than metal and booze?

I'm a SIXTH FINGER man.

2009-09-21T09:00:00.000-07:00

Saturday's mail arrived with the usual junk ads for various non-profit organizations, some coupons, and a odd little package from CALY. My usual impatience led me to tearing it open on the street side at once. Within the walls of a stout little envelope tattooed with chicken scratch was the highly anticipated "SIXTH FINGER SCISSORS", unable to with-hold my excitement I ran all the way back to the house with my new toy gripped firmly in my sweaty paws, despite a decades old warning admonished by my kindergarten teacher.

All other duties vanished for the day as I set about a proper field test at the fly tying vice - after I made several Michael scissor-hands jokes with the dogs. The first task was to see if the nifty little ring (that sets these apart from other inferior tinsel snipping tools) would actually fit over my my burly sasquatch-esque digits. So far so good.

With visions of catalogue perfect flies burned in my brain I began tying. The hardest part to get used to these new fangled scissors was that I didn't have to leave them on the desk between snips, and there in lies the beauty and genius behind the sixth finger: normally I set my scissors down and the clippings pile on my desk consumes them like an old studebaker in a blackberry patch. Since cleaning the desk is out of the question (because of all the useful clippings that will never get used) other essential things get lost in the scissor finding process. Another plus is that they are spring loaded, thus saving you unrealized effort during the snipping process, which is stupendous when tying hair frogs and other tools of bass deception.

Lets face it, the fly fishing industry can be as ruthless as "Big Tobacco". They make products that are better at catching fisherman than fish, I myself have even waxed financial about a creating a product that "looks like it should work" or one that completes a purpose that really doesn't need completing in the first place - like a shin guard for floattube mounted trolling motors. That is why I think most of us really appreciate a gadget that not only solves a common problem, but does it well.

The Sixth Finger Scissor is a creation that serves a valuable and so far unfilled purpose. Can you tie flies without one? Sure you can. Will it make your flies look neater and more professional? Thats up to you. Will it save you time and allow you to focus more on the fly, instead of looking for those goddamn scissors all the time? YOU BET YOUR ASS THEY WILL!
Leave it to Ex professional fly tier Keith Barton (of SINGLEBARBED & FISH CAN'T READ fame) to solve a dilemma, make your day just a little bit easier, and save you some time. You can get your kick ass scissors HERE , a swell as read a much more in depth and less whimsical tutorial. Try a set out and you too can be a Six fingered person (Just watch out for that pesky Inigio Montoya fellow).

)

JUST IN TIME FOR NATIONAL TALK LIKE A PIRATE DAY.

2009-09-18T17:06:00.000-07:00

Skagit Master: go buy it!

2009-09-18T17:04:00.000-07:00

and soon to follow by BAD FISH productions, "THE STILLAGUAMISH MASTER"

nervous Water trailer

2009-09-18T08:47:00.001-07:00

JUICED TROUT: RECORD BREAKER OR LABORATORY FREAK?

2009-09-16T20:23:00.000-07:00

After escaping imprisonment on a fish farm this monster trout began to run amok in lake Defenbaker, until it was thwarted by a young canadian hero. get the straight poop here.

Obama-Backs-Bush's-Bad Salmon Plan

2009-09-15T14:57:00.000-07:00

Instead of listening to scientific evidence, Obama decided to follow Bush's crummy salmon policy. SIGGGGGHHHHHH.

Pinks are good for the ego and the Id.

2009-09-14T12:54:00.000-07:00

Life can be a frustrating endeavor at times. Situations and circumstances join together with good ole' self destructive behavior creating a brothy melange of stress with enough heady aroma and body to stammer even the most discriminating and verbose sommeliers into saying "damn that just sucks". Then when life goes great you have the constant battle between the Ego and the Id (Freud's definition of two components of your subconsciousness) waging war in brain without the help of any outside influences.

What all the above whining boils down to is when life gets complicated, just go fishing. If angling itself doesn't sort things out, then at least you spent a day stewing on the water in stead of just a day of stewing. Im sure that Dr. Freud himself would approve of that prescription after analyzing the reason why us fly fishermen love playing with our rods all day long, above all else.

Further more if a day of fishing can be compared to St. john's wort, then a day of fishing for pink salmon (during one of the greatest pink salmon runs washington state has experienced in a long time) is PROZAC and a martini.

And thats where I found myself the last few days, hammering pink salmon with flys, not martini's with PROZAC. A lot of fishermen dislike pink salmon because of their numbers, their light flavor and ability to turn within hours of reaching freshwater. I have also heard pious fly flingers complain that they are easy to catch(?).

I have grown very fond of them over the last few days because of: their numbers, their light flavor (Im not a salmon eater), and because they are easy to catch - 26 salmon in one day is nothing to complain about.

I have primarily been fishing one of the small S rivers in western washington. There have been a god awful amount of people out on the weekdays an uncanny amount on the weekends and more salmon than I have ever thought possible pulsing up the current on the way to their spawning grounds to raise a generation of orphans.

I got lucky on a couple outings after finding a Humpy hole that was somewhat off the radar for the rest of the buzz bomb and pink jig casting hordes. one such place put my Redington CPX switch rod to the test, I have come to the conclusion that a 6 weight is perfect for pinks, you can really let them beat the crap out of you, but don't have to play them to exhaustion. The fly for that day was lucky Larry - a really sparse green sandlance pattern. I tied Larry on in hopes of enticing a pink with memories of its ocean going diet... and it worked as well as prozac and a martini! 26 pinks one afternoon with one fly; is enough for me to cry bullshit on myself. but its true - I was there. I took larry home and repaired him, as he was looking quite shabby and brought him out again the next day. After another epic afternoon he brought even more humpys to hand before breaking at the bend and ending his illustrious lip ripping career. I was done for day as well.

I have heard of people fishing in Alaska and having sore arms and hands from reeling in fish all day. I never thought that I would experience it myself, let alone in a river I had been fishing my whole life.

I firmly believe it's okay to go home feeling like a big shot once in awhile, especially when fly fishing is involved. Epic fishing trips don't come along all that often and I have been blessed with a few of them this season, but I promise I wont let it give me a swollen Ego or Id.

Hitch hiking pinks

2009-09-09T14:46:00.000-07:00

Normally picking up hitch hikers is discouraged these days. Paranoia about hollywood born - ax wielding psycho paths has us all giving that guy with his thumb up, a good hard look and some extra pressure to the gas pedal as we zip by; with only our exhaust fumes and echoing click of door locks to remind the hitch hiker that times are different now.

Not so in the Washington town of Buckley, at the White river. The army core of engineers gathers traveling salmon and trucks them up past damns that normally would stop them in their fins. word travels fast in the salmon world and it seems there are more of them hitching a ride past the damn this year than ever, the engineers can barely keep up with the legion of salmon returning to the White river.

The Chirping hordes : Have pellet gun, will travel.

2009-09-08T09:46:00.000-07:00

Chirping and tweeting on the lawn this morning were hundreds of the little pests. They stumbled about the grass as if they were searching for a set of lost car keys in unison. each one a thousand flies waiting to be tied and flung at savy, creatively tied fly appreciating trout.

Starlings are an introduced species of much malign, an unstoppable force in nature and most likely here to stay. The Government can't control them, let alone put a dent in the population of these native species-competing foreigners. To make matters worse starling droppings are found to have a corrosive agent that not only ruins the clear cote of your Vette, but breaks down concrete as well. If you want more starling doom and gloom click HERE.

On the bright side fly tiers have found it to be a useful element in their art. They can't be all bad.

Pike approves of catch and release

2009-09-06T10:11:00.000-07:00

Two videos of fish striking back.

the CG team at Fox News has outdone themselves!

2009-09-06T09:59:00.000-07:00

Bluegill need love too.

2009-09-05T23:12:00.000-07:00

Summer is drawing to a close and fall is quickly approaching. Its about to get very exciting as far as fly fishing goes - steelhead, salmon, cutthroat - As we pursue the larger and more popular varieties of fish its easy to completely forget what got many us started in this whole mess - bluegill.

Cold weather will have them shutting down long before other species, so they begin their fall feeding frenzy before the rest as well. go find your favorite bluegill pond on a breezy sept evening and see what happens. you might be surprised at the results, savor them and store them to memory because there will be a point during the long winter thats coming up (after the steelhead have gone back to sea and before the trout lakes open) where you might sell your soul for the feisty take and heroic runs of the humble Bluegill.

BATTLE MUG...The baddest mug ever!!!!

2009-09-05T20:54:00.000-07:00

As fly fisher-person's we all know that coffee is the most essential thing we have. it gets us out of bed, keeps us going straight down the highway, and helps prevent us from going bullshit crazy when some yahoo low holes us later on in the morning. but have you ever wanted more in a coffee vessell than just to keep your java warm and out of your lap? have you ever thought "it's a nice mug but doesn't look threatening enough." well look no more HERO GEAR has your solution!
Finally a coffee mug that will withstand the test of time, and just about anything else. This thing rocks and at just under three benji's well worth the price. Haven't you always wanted to mount a scope on your coffee mug? Get yours here and become a true Alpha male of the coffee station at your office.

VERITAS - AEQUITAS

2009-09-05T11:43:00.001-07:00

The somewhat unexpected sequel to the 1999 cult classic is coming your way very, very soon.
catch the trailer and whet your appetites right here laddy!

Sublime / steelhead tribute

2009-09-04T12:07:00.000-07:00

it may come as no surprise that I love Sublime, i also love steelhead fishing, and this is what happens on a long drive to the river with no radio in your car. Cheesy Awesome? i would say so.

Early in the morning, rise into the sleet.

string me up that fly rod and strap felt to my feet

got to find a reason, reason things went wrong

got to find a reason why the steelhead are gone

i got me a fly box, and a ton of flies

i can cast a spey rod like a mother F!@#en riot

the seasons too short, so rip the lips ya got

'cause you might get skunked or you might get a job

i got a pack i keep on my chest

never sweat it out in a fly fishing vest

take a small example, a tip from me

don't cast your fly too close to a tree

chrome is what i want, its within my reach

this Bad Fish style is straight from a camano beach

if you don't wear shades you'll get what you deserve

you might get a hook in your optical nerve

flies what i got, and i got damned lot

you'll need em when the river gets hot

chrome is, what i want. i said remember that

chrome is, what i want. remember that

chrome is what i want. i said remember that

chrome is what i want.

i don't cry when my fish gets away

i don't get angry at the flies i haven't made

i don't get angry when my line goes 'POP'

step in slime or trip on a rock

casting and swinging, it stays the same

livin' with guff dawg's the only way to stay sane

let the chromer, let the chromer come back to me

cause chrome is what i want, i said remember that

chrome is, what i want. remember that

chrome is, what i want. i said remember that

chrome is what i want, i want, i want

Looks like you got a bad seal...

2009-09-04T11:12:00.001-07:00

Oh what have those cuddly, doe eyed, little dickens of the sea done now? Well instead of taking a cue from its dolphin neighbor and rescuing someone, a harbor seal tried break new ground in seal hating by dragging a kid off a dock. yeesh. is this gill netter anti-seal propaganda or a case of a rogue seal running amok? who knows, but one things for sure; PETA is going to be very busy while the bays run red with seal blood from angry fathers and fishermen alike, seeking vengeance.

FIsh Can't Read: an all star cast.

2009-09-04T09:49:00.000-07:00

Online magazines are quickly rising to fill the information-entertainment-REALITY void that the newsstand rags just can't/don't/won't(?) come through with. Most call for unorthodox (dare I say original) pictures and writing that magazines -who sold their sole to the paper mill- might not print, for fear of not sticking with tried, true, and boring.

One such online mag that promises to deliver the goods is the up and coming Fish Can't Read

due to hit your monitor mid Sept.

Wether or not they supply the goods remains to be seen, but with an all star line up on their team, I have the utmost faith something full of fishy goodness will be blowing up my inbox.

Behold the seven horse-people of the News stand apocalypse:

John Juracek- fly fishing writer and photographer of renown.

Camille Egdorf- guide, photographer, blogger (Rip Lps) and all around inspiration to women who want to fling flies.

Alex Landeen- photographer, brownliner, and a blogger who helped inspire the birth of Bad Fish with his highly entertaining somewhat random blogging in Fat Guy Fly Fishing.

Lani Waller- steelhead guru and fly fishing hall of fame inductee. Not to mention author, conservationist, and steelhead fly tying genius.

Keith Barton- The guy responsible for religiously filling my inbox every morning with witty and irreverent anecdotes of fly fishing news and observations in his blog Singlebarbed.

Rounding out this ragtag crew of fly fishing personalities are

Jake and Mark McGlothlin- fly fishermen extraordinaire and founders of Dry fly media and the Chi Wulff blog, a highly informative and insightful newsletter that I hope to over utilize on my trip to MT.

So there you have it: the Fish Can't read team. due to kick some serious ass in the up and coming first issue. Make sure you subscribe and enjoy something original for once.

Thursday Flics

2009-09-03T16:00:00.001-07:00

For your viewing pleasure, some flicks Bad Fish found to be, well bad (but in a good way)

This is how the Vikings roll.

2009-09-03T15:44:00.000-07:00

Steelheading inspiration

2009-09-03T15:05:00.000-07:00

BAD FISH photo essay: an afternoon at the stillaguamish

2009-09-03T12:37:00.000-07:00

pics by Jeremiah Johnson and Michael Thompson

Freedom To Roam: speaks the truth

2009-09-03T11:39:00.000-07:00

Freedom to Roam and patagonia and other worth wile groups like Save our Wild Salmon created a great doc with Skip Armstrong (an awesome filmmaker in his own right) that showcases the ups and downs, pitfalls and boons for salmonids and communities around the snake river area.

FUDGGGGGGGE!!! but thats not what he really said

2009-09-03T11:03:00.000-07:00

As a life long cusser I have yet to hear the F-bomb dropped

with this much conviction.

The Umpqua's Fish Watcher.

2009-09-03T09:35:00.000-07:00

As anglers we get to experience all kinds of river and fish abuse. Snagging and overflowing limits seem to be the rule of the day for some areas, with no one observe these crimes but everyday honest anglers. We thoughtfully release our quarry after working damn hard to get it, holding it in the current until it catches it's breath while the poacher downstream chucks an "old boot salmon" back in the river to die at the bottom.

after reading about the Umpqua's fish watcher at the famous "Dynamite hole" i felt a brief glimmer of hope. at least one spot on one river is protected from the hoards.

read the rag, watch the movie and find a way to become a steward for your favorite bend in the river.

Catch, Catch Magazine issue #7

2009-09-03T09:30:00.000-07:00

still steaming fresh, Fantastic, and Free!!!! check it out!

NOAA cares about what you think!

2009-09-02T12:04:00.000-07:00

The National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration is teaming up with YOU the recreational fisherman to get some S@#T done. that warms the cockles of my heart. NOAA gets a kudos and one big geoduck up from Bad fish!

The best skeeter repellant? STRESS

2009-09-01T21:02:00.000-07:00

an interesting study in the UK has determined that skeeters like the happy shiny people best because... well their tasty. perhaps the mosquito has determined that you are what you eat, and tend to avoid us over stressed type A personalities.

More bad steelhead notes: State of the steelhead

2009-09-01T15:42:00.000-07:00

It's not all bad, this is an incredibly interesting document by Dylan Tomine . However as an ever increasingly pessimistic steelheader all I found was that the glass was half empty and about to tip over.

Times, they are a changing.

2009-09-01T15:07:00.000-07:00

Another report of global warming screwing up the fishing. I wonder what this will do for all those striper junkies at Martha's Vineyard?

Bad fish 9:1 the sins of the humpy bear punishment for the chum

2009-09-01T13:17:00.000-07:00

I got up in the wee hours of the morning to get a jump on opening day humpy madness on the stillaguamish river. it was pure insanity, however I think there were more people fishing for humpys yesterday. the water was beaten to a cappuccino like froth (extra dry) and the fish were understandably not biting. thats all right though, every one was perfectly content snagging their limits.

to help paint the picture: at the big hole where the humpys amassed there was the loud family - the louder family - several hooligans- a couple grampas with bored grandchildren involved in a rock chunking competition. then in between, sat a few fly fisherman (only myself and one other were practicing catch and release) who obviously wanted some slimer meat but didn't want to download the complete salmon nightmare. at the smaller hole were the wader clad professional snaggers who really do know what their doing, along with some more hooligans, more loud familys, and more salmon that were scared shitless.

In between both pools the humpys would travel in waves back and forth all morning long. they knew what a lure looked like, they knew what people looked like and they knew their only options were resting in one of the two pools or getting hammered. frantically they kept this pace up until I left.

sooner or later it will die down and the river will be peaceful again with nothing but some zombie salmon bumping around... until chum season.

Bad Fish loves Simms!!!

2009-08-31T18:14:00.000-07:00

Shortly after mentioning my unwavering love for a certain company and a possible modification to something in their product line, I received a package at my doorstep. I cracked it open with the all the anticipation of crack head on payday. inside was a very generous assortment of free Simms goodies! How did the folks at Simms know I needed a new hat, don't wear enough sunscreen or chapstick, and love stickers... seriously how did they know???

"whiskey tango foxtrot? (you might be thinking) a company that appreciates their customers long after the checks have been cashed? does such a thing exist" it does! before this token of customer appreciation I have been a Simms devotee for the simple fact of the matter that their stuff works. It does what it says it's supposed to and if for some reason it doesn't the company stands behind their product and actually wants to keep their customers happy and coming back. what more do you need besides a rod, reel and a river?

Thanks Simms, you guys rock.

up north, going south : record low steelhead returns

2009-08-31T15:58:00.000-07:00

Bad news for Bad fish, and you too if steelhead fishing makes you feel all warm and fuzzy even when hypothermia isn't setting in. it seems as though one of the last strongholds of epic steelhead fishing is going the way of the Stilly.

unfortunately for us stubborn metal heads we will probably keep swinging weener-dog sized intruders through empty runs long after the last steelhead is gill-netted and hung on the Smithsonian wall.

Crappy situation for the Skokomish

2009-08-28T21:16:00.000-07:00

for some reason im not terribly surprised. from what little I have observed of the Skokomish it has some of the best king salmon fishing in washington, and some of the worst that humanity has to offer. big salmon seem to bring out the worst in people around here. in this case the worst drifted down stream and contaminated the clams.

Friday, August 28, 2009 - Page updated at 09:00 p.m.
Sport fishermen's waste fouling shellfish harvest
By Lynda V. Mapes
Seattle Times staff reporter
Sport fishermen fouling the banks of the Skokomish River with human waste and garbage have prompted the state to close hundreds of acres of shellfish beds, shutting down clam and oyster harvests worth tens of thousands of dollars.
The fishermen's refusal to clean up after themselves also has cost the public about $1,000 for portable toilets and trash disposal, paid for by the state Department of Fish and Wildlife to facilitate its recreational fishery on king salmon, stoked by a state hatchery up the road from the river.
The sport fishery on the Skokomish this year is unusually good. With about 10,000 more fish than last year, some at 15 pounds and larger, the run has attracted fishermen from across the state and as far away as Alaska. The Skokomish offers a chance to catch a big fish on the cheap: Pull over, park, walk to the river and throw in a line. It's been a draw for years — but not like this.
The return of the big fish, combined with a greatly extended season — about twice as long as last year — has drawn 500 to 2,000 fishermen to the river daily, most of them standing shoulder-to-shoulder along a mile and a half of river.
The fishery is open seven days a week, from dawn to dusk, and is scheduled to last until Sept. 30.
But less than three weeks after the fishery opened Aug. 1, the fishermen's conduct led the state Department of Health to enact an emergency shellfish-bed closure Aug. 18 at Annas Bay, near the mouth of the river, to protect the public from fecal coliform contamination in shellfish.
"I look at this as a spill," said Bob Woolrich, shellfish specialist with the state Department of Health.
The department closed the easternmost part of the bay four years ago because of water-quality problems. The state was on the verge of reopening the area, after years of cleanup work, but changed course because of the new influx of pollution. Instead, the state is taking a step backward, retaining its closure of 300 acres, and closing 500 more at the mouth of the river.
Taylor Shellfish Farms, a Shelton-based commercial shellfish grower, lost a potential $25,000 in clams the company was poised to gather, said Bill Dewey, company spokesman. "What a mess," Dewey said. "It's amazing that people can think that is OK."
The Skokomish tribe was counting on harvesting more than 175,000 oysters from shellfish beds, also on Annas Bay. It, too, is now shut out of the harvest by the sporties' mess.
That closure hurts the most low-income tribal fisherman without the money to buy a boat or travel to more distant venues, said David Herrera, fisheries-policy representative for the tribe.
The state has known since a pollution study in 2003 that the fishery was a problem, and it should have been better prepared, Herrera said. "There are so many people, and they are fishing shoulder-to-shoulder and they believe if they leave their spot for very long they will lose their spot. They would rather step in the bushes; that is how that fishery operates."
Joseph Pavel, a Skokomish tribal member and manager of the tribe's natural-resources department, said the fishery used to be fun for the whole community. "It used to be a local fishery, non-Indians, Indians, we all knew each other, we grew up together, we had a good time together," Pavel said. But the fishery has become a headache, with trucks and RVs lining the road, overflowing garbage bins, and worse, Pavel said.
"It's just real unpleasant," he said. "I don't even want to go down there, and I don't want to take my kids down there."
The tribe has asked the department to close down the recreational fishery so the mess doesn't worsen — a step the department is mulling, said Ron Warren, a fish program manager for the state Department of Fish and Wildlife. "It's theirs to lose if they continue to make bad decisions," he said of sport fishermen defiling the area.
Outdoor recreationists are responsible for taking care of their garbage and waste, Warren said. But the department opened the season with six portable toilets and a Dumpster supplied on the river, and has increased the number of portable toilets to 19, and Dumpsters to three. "We have taken extraordinary measures," Warren said.
The department also conducted a so-called emphasis patrol for fishing violations and turned up 56 in one weekend, from keeping more than the one allowed fish, to using improper gear and methods, including snagging. The department promises to continue patrols.
On his visit to the river this week, Warren said he found some areas clean. Elsewhere? "It's gross," Warren said. "I have witnessed ... gross."
Lynda V. Mapes: 206-464-2736 or lmapes@seattletimes.com
Copyright © The Seattle Times Company
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HUMP DAY HUMPYS

2009-08-26T20:36:00.000-07:00

i picked up a few humpys while in search of cutthroat on the skagit.

brook trout at location X

2009-08-24T18:22:00.000-07:00

2009-08-24T18:07:00.001-07:00

the last hoorah(!)

2009-08-22T21:53:00.000-07:00

we went back to location X today and found it completely crowded by campers and hikers. the fish population looked like it was raped pretty hard by the worm and bobber guys.

julie managed to hook a couple chunky brook trout on her new four weight, and i even caught a few in between snapping sub parr pics.

with a sigh we left the lake, firm in resolve not to return for another year and give the fish a chance to regroup.

Team Brute force and Ignorance rides again.

2009-08-22T21:30:00.000-07:00

i met up with my old friend Jon last tuesday. i haven't seen him since i quit my job and hightailed it back to the island. after a brief catching up we headed to some brook trout lakes i knew of.

day one didn't leave us with much time so we hit a closer body of water, only about .8 miles of a hike. we found the fish numbers to be low, but consistent. getting bites every 5 or ten minutes.

jon scored a couple nice 12 inchers while i took shitty pictures. he had some release malfunctions and ended up keeping a trio of fish that would have died anyway, and they tasted fantastic.

cold beer and burgers with some grilled brook trout ended up the evening.

day two found us hiking 4 miles (?) into another lake. we found it to be a bug factory from hell and began catching fish after fish and missing strike after strike. i don't remember what the total was for that day but it was higher than my companion could count.

large cutthroats with the occasional chunky brookie mixed in made the lake worth the grueling hike. i was just happy jon got into some fish, i owed him a good trip in a bad way.

we hit the road the next day after breakfast chili dogs and promises to do it again next year.

more sunsets!!!!

2009-08-22T21:24:00.001-07:00

Rock bass round up.

2009-08-22T21:18:00.000-07:00

got some rock bass trolling a clouser at 60 feet. it was actually a pleasant day for the old C-dory. not too much chop so it didn't spank as hard as normal.

The rock bass where barely fun, they fought as hard as a wash cloth, but tasted Ggggrrrreat!

2009-08-13T21:30:00.000-07:00

leaving the nest

2009-08-11T13:20:00.000-07:00

spotted these fledgeling cedar waxwings sitting out of the nest during what was most likely the first rain of their lives. they looked very put out over all the moisture falling from the sky, so much so that they left the nest in search of dryer pastures.

brook trout fer sure!

2009-08-10T12:15:00.000-07:00

caught this guy a couple weeks ago and it's still bugging me. the fish looks like an eastern brook trout in every way, except for the fact that it wasnt as vibrantly colored as the rest of the brookies i caught that day, this fish looked faded. plus it's head had the thickness and arrow shape that bull trout usually get.

according to the washington state game regs if it has worm marks on the fins it's a brookie... but once again, it had the worm marks but the rest of the fin was on the yellowish side reminding me more of a bull than brook.

the second pic is an example all the brook trout i caught that day except the previously mentioned conundrum. olive body, burnt orange belly, almost burgundy fins. as for the other pic, i have seen brookies in stained and murky water getting a little faded but this was caught in some of the clearest water i have seen. hmmmm

the general consensus seems to be it was a brook trout, thanks for looking folks!

ptarmigan ridge and the galena chain lakes

2009-08-10T10:50:00.000-07:00

we tried a new trail at ptarmigan ridge leading to the galena chain lakes, the sun never came out on saturday leaving us with limited views of scenery and very close looks at clouds. this is an area where wide angle lenses and stunning landscape shots would be the norm, but with lack of long and medium distance visibility we were able to actually notice the smaller details of the mountain side, like water droplets on a lupine or a small pika that came out to whistle at our trespassing. the fishing was great, but not epic. the fish were scrappy but not large, however brilliantly colored. and the mountains left me wanting more as usual, on the way out through the fog i spotted the areas namesake. ptarmigans fed along the shale as what passed for dusk set in. as stated before the lack of visibility and new micro environment of alpine meadows and tarns left me the impression i was hiking on some distant planet, or tollkien-esque landscape.

fun with grasshoppers

2009-08-06T22:11:00.001-07:00

ringo is that you?

2009-08-06T14:22:00.001-07:00

the brook trout quest continues

2009-08-03T10:00:00.000-07:00

saturday we went back to artist point above the baker ski resort and found it to be thawed. the views were stunning, the fish were beautiful, my feet raw, and the camera work sub-par. ohwell you cant win em all.

im not sure if i would go to all this trouble just

to catch a rainbow or a cutthroat. there is something about brook trout fishing, sore feet, and mind blowing scenery that i cant seem to divide. i love a fish that is rare, dramatically colored, hard to get to and easy to catch.

julie ended up catching her first trout (and second and third and fourth and fith ect) fly rod fish. these fish have such a hard life and short growing season that they dont get huge, one fish she caught was pushing 8inches but it sported the pointed head and defined markings of a mature brookie or two or three years. and these fish had shoulders for little guys, the alpine lakes around artist point must support a wealth of bug life because in the three weeks since the lakes thawed fish put on some girth, which is great because the waters will freeze up in another month or two. i intend to make the huff back before the ice sets in for another year.

bob, corn, and liquid kindling

2009-07-27T23:40:00.001-07:00

practice shots

2009-07-25T20:17:00.001-07:00

scottish fair

2009-07-25T20:15:00.000-07:00

these folks blew

cloud fishing and the marmot whistlerer

2009-07-24T20:27:00.000-07:00

hit one of my favorite alpine lakes in time for the clouds to roll in and totally white everything out, it was probably the most uncomfortable i have been on a float tube ever.

later after the sun came out so did the marmots, i got into a whistling competition with one for a couple minutes, do to my short attention span he won... oh yeah i caught some brookies too. ok i caught a whole lot of brookies.

the coolest thing ever

2009-07-23T15:45:00.000-07:00

from back in the day

2009-07-23T14:50:00.002-07:00

Henry Rollins - Dutch TV Interview - 1995

damsels and ditch pickles

2009-07-22T20:28:00.000-07:00

hit the pond with my q-tip damsel fly pattern, and knocked em out!

2009-07-20T21:32:00.000-07:00

bass bugs.

2009-07-20T15:03:00.000-07:00

looking for bass at the pond. they were smashing the dragons and damsels... of which pattern i had neither... my double bunnies went ignored.

this clip is AMAZING!

2009-07-20T14:17:00.000-07:00

Click on the image to watch the video......awesome.

pics from location X

2009-07-20T08:28:00.000-07:00

i went back to location X last friday. it was still half frozen or half thawed depending on how you look at it, either way by mid afternoon the ice was completely gone, but there was still enough snow on the bank to ice a few beverages.

Location X has been very good to me, and friday was no X-ception, i could bore everyone with a fish count but the truth is, i lost count after fish #__ . so i will let the pics speak for themselves. on a side note i think i got a brook/bull hybrid, it was big fish but wasn't sporting the traditional brook trout colors.

on the way out Mt Shuskan and Baker made me limp out of the car for another round of pics

killer pic from TWIN TAIL PHOTOGRAPHY

2009-07-15T16:02:00.000-07:00

storms a brew'en!

2009-07-15T11:13:00.000-07:00

saturday evening on the way home from a truly epic day of brook and brown trout fishing on lake X (the one by no name peak and the lost highway), the evening color took on some shades not normally seen. soon julie and i were driving along side a very dramatic lightening storm. we snapped some pics along the way and made it home in time for me to take some very lame lightening shots while i figured out my camera in the dark.

Julie took the video which in my opinion is the best one -worth sitting through the 30 seconds of dead space at least.

an "Epic" finish to an "Epic" fishing trip.

seeking salmon

2009-07-14T22:26:00.000-07:00

hit the beach this evening hoping for an early pink salmon or dolly or two... no such luck. but i did get to practice casting my new switch rod into the wind and only hooked my elbow once, which is pretty good for all the ducking i did.

so i started a blog...

2009-07-14T14:13:00.000-07:00

here goes nothing. im new to the whole bliggety blog scene, but i promise i will try to maintain a mildly entertaining, pretentiousness free fly fishing journal. that means no postings about how carp fishing is such a wonderful untapped resource in the fly fishing world... don't get me wrong carp kick ass, its just that they are old news, and im currently waiting for the whole squaw fishing movement to take effect so that we can make something different and quirky mainstream and boring.

there are only so many ways to wax poetic about fly fishing and for the vast majority of poets waxing, it just ends up being blather about fly fishing, and all the poetry ends up smelling like fish. there will be none of that here, i will leave it to the pros like mister Gierach and Mcguane now that i set the bar incredibly low, i have to find something to blog about, in the mean time enjoy a pretentious scenery-beverage pic.