…the fence. Ouch.
Read more: “(Hurricane) Ike: A Fish Story“
A swift click on a link promising that I could “Win a Free Loop Rod Here” quickly gave way to the LoopArmy site and, later, quiet snickering. The site reads thus…
Win the rod that was designed by the AEG Media “Fish Bums”. Loop Tackle of Sweden is proud to have collaborated with the “Fish Bums” to create the ultimate trout rod series and is pleased to be offering you a chance to win one.
Loop Tackle’s goal was to build a Premium fly rod that would normally retail for closer to $700.00, but make it “Fish Bum” affordable. Mission accomplished and Loop Tackle of Sweden is proud to introduce the “AEG Signature Series”.
Sure, the one of the rods I no doubt will might win are touted as “Incorporating the latest graphite’s and glues…” to “…recreate what is arguably the greatest 5 weight ever built…”, while the other “…was designed from the ground up to handle big trout and summer steelhead…” and “…is a pleasure to cast all day long.” But look up the price…’fish bum’ affordable at $370 and up?
Understand that I’m a cheap responsible guy with a wife, kids, a dog, a rabbit, a fish tank and a mortgage, and the cost of any fly fishing tackle is paid with whatever pocket change might be lying around. My first fly fishing outfit – rod, reel, line AND case – was a $124.95 two-piece L.L. Bean 5 weight. And it’s still catching trout for my son. My latest rod upgrade alone still cost less than that.
So, while other fly fishermen argue amongst themselves over the differences between $400 and $700 rods, I say adequacy is fine, silently telling myself that I’d prefer a full tank of gas for the trip and an abundance of willing trout, figuring no fish stops to check a rod’s price tag before inhaling my fly.
Is fly fishing the best sport to take up in the kid-less years?
Perhaps, like me, you retired to a land of hills and cold-water streams and found a friend to teach you how to cast an artificial insect into a flowing river. When the first trout grabbed the fly, jumped and danced in the water, bending your slender rod into a quivering bow, you thought you had hooked the fish. Actually, the fish hooked you.
Worth a read.
It’s clear that someone missed the boat when it came to choosing a career path.
While the ASVAB would point me towards logistics in the U.S. Army and local community college’s career assessment would suggest fish and game warden or
interior designer carpenter, not once was it revealed that scratching out a living in a rock and roll or funk or reggae band might nicely dovetail with fly fishing.
There’s an elegant simplicity to it — get paid to play all night then wake up and play on the water during the day. Sure, a few morning hatches might be missed thanks to the occasional and probable hangovers that come with the job.
It seems, however, that the monkey’s thrown the wrench into Mr. Powell’s plans…success may poison his plans. With real work comes dusty fly rods.
The following All Points Bulletin was issue on September 12, 2008
CURRENT STATUS: Alarming
INFORMATION REGARDING RELEASE OF NEW (PROBATIONARY)
DRIVER ON THE PUBLIC ROADS OF THE UNITED STATES
AGE: 15½ | HT: 5’9” (175.3 CM) | WT: 157 LBS. (79.3 KG)
HAIR: BROWN | EYES: BROWN
ADAM IS A SOPHOMORE STUDENT AT ST. PATRICK-ST. VINCENT HIGH SCHOOL IN VALLEJO, CALIFORNIA, WHO REFUSES TO STOP GROWING AND AS A CONSEQUENCE HAS BEEN GRANTED A PROVISIONAL DRIVING PERMIT. HE WAS LAST SEEN FRIDAY, SEPTEMBER 12, 2008 AT APPROXIMATELY 1845 HOURS LEAVING HOME IN THE TOWN OF BENICIA IN THE COMPANY OF A SWEET SISTERS DRIVING INSTRUCTOR IN A LATE-MODEL BURGUNDY FORD MUSTANG. FOUL PLAY IS NOT SUSPECTED THOUGH HIS PROVISIONAL DRIVING PERMIT WAS DISCOVERED TO BE MISSING AND MAY BE IN HIS POSSESSION. IT IS POSSIBLE THAT HE MAY BE ATTEMPTING TO CONTROL THE VEHICLE.
If you have any information regarding the whereabouts of Adam and when he might be driving on public roads please alert family members and friends and give him a wide birth.
Cool nights, fog in the morning and a flip of the calendar hint that’s it time to pack up and climb over Sonora Pass.
This time next week it’ll be prime time in the Eastern Sierra. A bunch of us fly club members will attempt to float flies between the weeds at Hot Creek, chase big-shouldered rainbows and browns in Crowley Lake and otherwise whip various waters trying to entice that one or two or seven fish that will grant us memories and a story that’ll keep us warm all winter long. Tying flies will be the mandate for the coming week. (Figure to mitigate the wife’s comment that last time she looked my fly box was full very simply with the purchase of another.)
The only worry is exposing my lack of casting skill to the eyes of others who actually know me and will have opportunity to later comment on the hilarity of it all. Hopefully catching fish will distract them long enough for me to somehow wet a line and maybe, and by the grace of God, fool a fish.
As part of his on-going War on Four-Footed Terrorists — wherein my father ensures that most manner of critters will win free relocation for stepping foot in his yard — he’s sent out notice of the capture of his first raccoon. Seems you can take the man out of law enforcement but you can’t take the law enforcement out of the man.
Wear a mask, go to prison.