Sunday March 25th 2007

Fished this morning. The crick is running at about 51 cfs and a little off color. Scuds on the bottom... The good news? Caddis were spotted. Just wait till the trout see them!!!!

Late entries

A late burst of entries for the photo contest.
T-Mos I edited your categories:

Category: Swine


Category: Food
or
Category: Swine


Category:I'd be a lot happier if that was me...


Category: That's what I'm talking about!!!
or
Category: When chicks are studs


Category: Food


Category: Vision after a 4 day fishing bender

life is grand ...and then... AAAH SHIT!

Went back out troutin' yesterday. Hooked up on a few that got away and a couple more that I landed. No ice in the guides. Oh sweet melody of line sliding, instead of choking, through the guides.
I fished from about noon to 3 and then decided to hot foot it for home. Geared down, jumped in my ride and gunned her down the busy road that runs next to the stream I was on. A short distance later and I heard a clunk... It took me fifty yards to pull the car over to the shoulder. (ok, halfway into the shoulder. I tore off the door and did a 3.4 second fifty yard dash all the while praying hard. In case you are wondering why a 35 year old idiot was sprinting in waders into oncoming traffic...well I'll get to that...Why was I praying? I'm not religious but I was hoping for a miracle...two miracles to be exact. The first miracle I was that there were either no cars following me or that I could run faster than said cars. The second miracle was that when I stopped running, fifty yards back from where I had come, I wouldn't find my sage 4 piece 5 weight in a 14 piece configuration. There. I said it. Me, the guy who hasn't as much as scratched a rod since I was 10, left my godamned rig on top of my car. I saw it lying their in the road writhing in pain and I ran in what seemed like slow motion praying praying praying. I picked the poor thing up and walked back to my car. (I still cannot believe that another car wasn't following me.) I sat there and quickly took stock...Pflueger Trion dinged.
cork grip dinged. section 2 clean, section 3 clean, section 4 clean. I sat and sat and sat. I hated myself. I was downright pissed at myself. I would have kicked myself in the ass if I could have.
epilogue:
Tonight I tore apart the reel, took a rubber mallet and straightened the frame, added some lube and now it works as well as ever, except that it has a scar on the rim where it landed. I took an exacto knife to the cork grip on the rod and carefully extracted the banged up cork and lovingly glued in two new cork plugs before taping it all up to cure overnight. I had to take some 600 grit sandpaper and steel wool to the nickel silver but-cap too. All in all the rod and reel will be good as new. Not me though, I finally figured out how to kick my own ass and now it hurts to sit down. I believe in Karma and so let me just say: If it is you who I have wronged, in this life or a previous, please forgive me and if it isn't to much to ask...please watch over my rods.

Let the games begin!

I didn't get out on the first day. I did on the second day. Sunday. JP met me at 1:00 and we had a hell of a day. 22 degrees when I left the house at 10:30 am. I fished till 5. I had encounters with about a half dozen fish ranging from 8"-14". Nymphs and streamers mostly. Somebody who went before me and who was obviously heavier than I am, proved that the snow in many places was 20+ inches deep. I half expected to find some jolly old angler up to his wading belt in a drift, dead from a heart attack. Thankfully, I didn't. The dead tend to cut into your fishing time.

I "landed" a few, lost a few and got a short strike in one spot from a 13-14 inch brown that was interested, in a brief flashy sort of way, in my size 6 black bugger. 10-12 casts then it was manual de-icing time. I never did take a picture of a fish, none held still for the shot. Interestingly enough, I never felt cold. Not even for a minute.