fishing for words

(and tossing out random thoughts)

late summer lament, wife on the motorcycle, and a reminder from Churchill


"Four Seasons-Fenner Nature Center" photo collage by Aunt Owwee, used under creative commons licenseHi, I’m Patrick and I’m a fly fisherman. I cast my last fly…

Late Summer Lament

It’d soften the blow to say that I fell off the wagon this summer. The truth is that I nearly missed the wagon entirely.

There are plenty of excuses for not fly fishing as much as I’d have liked this summer. Sure, high water on many of the rivers for much of the summer is another lame excuse. Thankfully, I’m gainfully employed, which while providing the funds for fishing, also limits the time in which to do so.

I did squeeze in some quality and numbers of fish on the few trips I did make, but it’s been too many days. I’m feeling the shakes. The hope is to get in a quick fix next weekend.

But here in California summer won’t wane until late September, although the high country where I prefer to chase trout will have a light dusting of fall colors by then. That’s when we’ll expect to make up for lost opportunities. It’s the annual club trip and my time there this year will be nearly doubled. The chance of larger fish will also be raised with the hope of spending many of those days on a favorite lake that’s lately been giving up some big brown, rainbow and cutthroat trout.

In between now and then, we’ll be heading to Alaska via a cruise ship, giving devoted attention to The Wife, and there will be no fishing. We’re saving up for a week-long fishing trip in The Last Frontier sometime in the coming year. Or the next.

More Adventure on Two Wheels

The Wife surprised me a while ago. “So, when are you going to take me on the motorcycle?”

There’s no telling if it’s the experience gained over a few years of riding or the miles, or maybe the idea of snuggling at speed, but it was clear she was serious after a little discussion. I knew she used to ride, back when rashness of youth focused on the “bad boys” with their Harleys motorcycles.

After buying a helmet last Saturday (not pink and no rhinestones, thank you), we rode on Sunday. Not too many miles, about 15, but enough for me to get the feel of having a passenger. All went well, no doubt helped along by The Wife’s previous riding experience.

Having a wife supporting her husband’s hobby is pretty near; to join in, definitely a bonus.

When Fly Fishing Wasn’t a Political Photo Op

During some general browsing of the web, I came across the article below from the Ottawa Citizen, dated August 28, 1943. It struck me as an illustration of the resolve of leaders not too many years ago. Despite the troubles of the world, time was taken to enjoy a favored pursuit (albeit during a secret meeting codename Quadrant). A reminder, despite the troubles of today, to slow down and savor that which we enjoy.

Churchill Goes Trout Fishing after Secret Confab, Ottawa Citizen, Aug. 28, 1943 (Google News Archive)

Churchill Goes Trout Fishing after Secret Conference in Quebec,
from the Ottawa Citizen, Aug. 28, 1943 (via the Google News Archive)


2 thoughts on “late summer lament, wife on the motorcycle, and a reminder from Churchill

  1. Bad boys, yes. Harleys, no. Glad I got *that* outta my system though and focused on you! (heart) ♥

  2. Hi Patrick. Love is wonderful, isn’t it.


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