Tuesday, February 21

a year.

started because i was irritated with old people. shit, updated this almost weekly for awhile on a quest for free shit which never really panned out. got sick. flirted with death. rebounded. trying to understand fishing without smoking...

let's break for that one.

seriously. you ever notice how fucking boring this bullshit hobby is? fuck my face, part of its joy was sitting on a log smoking a pipe and waiting for shit to happen.

denied. fuck you cancer.

...anyways. whatever. been a year. and change. fuckin eh.

spring. occasional fishing. thinking about completing a rod. thinking about starting the new rod. looking at the new shit then picking up 1930's finest. south bend assures me that in 1939, this fly rod was in fact "dry fly action." i'm pretty sure they lied. wishing like fuck i could smoke on the water. barely updating as not really understanding a need. if it wasn't so much work, i'd fish a silk line.

jasper thread wraps sure are pretty.


  1. I have thought of this as well. I miss the times just sitting there, being able to have some beers and wait. That is pretty much what I do when I hit LBI with the spinning tackle. I do miss the ability to have a beer and fish at the same time...should dust off the ol' freshwater spinning gear. The start of the season will be insane and unable to fly fish anyway, all people pounding the streams. Not to mention the almost fist fights like Becker had last year on the Jordan.

  2. I thought avoiding boat rods with 3oz pyramid anchors and a loaf of Wonderbread on the end was part of the fun of opening weekend?

    I look forward to the start of open season gleefully after 3/1 because I refuse to drive to fish and most of the streams in my area are ATW.

    The first weekend is pretty rough, but after that I find little issue in locating a place away from people. Even the first weekend works out pretty well if you don't bother going out til the afternoon and stay away from the most populous area.

    The dumbest fish have powerbaited out by that point, and the stockers that are left have no idea what that green and red thing with the big white wings is supposed to be, but it just swung in front of their face and fuckall if they're not gonna put in their mouth.

    And, you can usually be treated to an late afternoon of rishing fish, at the same time lending mystique to being That Guy and thus hero to kids with Snoopy rods everywhere.

    Opening day is fun, just look past the stringers filled with glassy eyed death.