Mar 12 2010 10:52 am
juxtaposition consolation
The shad are in.
They are
the slimiest fish
I ever done touch.
They are
much bigger
than I thut.
Unfortunately,
I didn’t catch
any bonus bucketmouth.
This is
a consolation bucketmouth.
The end.
Mar 9 2010 11:08 am
nope part II: three days of nope
What is that feeling at the core of my central nervous system, the one that feels warm and aches softly all over? Is it the flu? Spinal meningitis? Is it exhaustion? Is it wrong that I like it because it helps me sleep at 10:00pm?
When I saw the cove on Saturday still full of ice from shore to shining shore I lost my nerve. I didn’t call. There was some open water all the way out on the point. So we walked out there but I still didn’t call.
Waded a few miles in the local creek on Sunday and didn’t catch a thing. Caught a ride back. I told the driver about her and he laughed at me and said: “shit or get off the pot son, before you know it you’ll have used up all that charm of yours, ain’t no telling where you'll be then.”
Yesterday I hit a different section of the creek. Sixty degrees and goddamn sunshine, but couldn’t get bit. Walked the road back. I saw her on her fancy road bike riding at me. There was a big truck hauling massive blocks of limestone and growling its Jake brake barreling down the hill behind her. Both her and the truck passed me by at the same time and she looked scared. Her ass looked good in spandex, what with the efficient geometry of the bike forcing her to bend so far over. I wish she had high heels on. There is just something special about women riding road bikes in high heels. I yelled “fuck you” at the top of my lungs and she wobbled on the bike in the cloud of dust the truck made.
Then I went to the beach again and the ice had receded to the middle of the lake. I saw a dead yellow bass on shore. I stood in the cold water for an hour then went home to fall asleep at 10:00pm.
Mar 2 2010 6:55 pm
it ain't spring, but it's something
There has been a Blood Knot Magazine [sic] article making the blog rounds lately. It is about the types of customers one might encounter as a fly shop employee. It is funny, and parts of it ring true to this particular fly shop employee, but of course it is incomplete.
To wit- I happen to have two customers that were not accurately described in said piece. Following the format of the above mentioned article, they could be described thusly:
SOPHISTICATED ACADEMIC BADASS (Male 50s? and 60s?) They are academics, artists in fact, though one or both may dispute that moniker. They’ve been at the fishing game a while and know what’s what. They have a various and assorted collection of well-worn Patagonia and Orvis gear, probably more than fifty rods between them, yet they continue to support the shop generously . They are accomplished fly tiers, some might even say neurotic, who order lead eyes by the hundreds and entire dyed pheasant skins two or three at a clip, despite the fact that they could supply a fly shop’s entire tying inventory from their personal stash for some not insignificant number of years. We’ve fished together several times and they could both wade me into the ground. They are hard as nails. ANNUAL FISHING DAYS = 1000.
One of them gave me an articulated crayfish pattern two weeks ago which I tied on first today, my first smallmouth mission of the new year. I promptly hooked a nice 17” fish and then said fish promptly spit the hook.
The other gave me an articulated crayfish pattern two weeks ago, very similar to the first sans rabbit strip claws, and I tied it on sometime later today and caught a decent 12” fish, whose likeness can be found below.
Feb 26 2010 9:48 pm
new camera
Sold the boat. Bought a camera. Took 300 pictures on my walk to work today. Here are the decent ones.
