Holy shit, lehigh valley local topical shit and what not.

Them there local TU types along with some sort of artsy shit thing here in the Valley are bringing one of them there fancy fly fishin' kinda movies in for the townies.

The fine people at Monocacy TU have a full article here, but the short of it is on December 17th, they'll be presenting "Kiss the Water," a documentary (I guess) about reknowned (I guess) salmon fly tier Megan Boyd.

OK, so there's not much I can go on there... Deal with it. How about I parrot more copy from the PR campaign for the film, itself?

....

Oh fuck that, I don't know. I saw shit about movie festivals I never heard of, and all sorts of nonsense. It doesn't matter. You know what does matter... The fact that someone is doing something of note about our little sport in the third largest metropolitan area of Pennsylvania that somehow has no fucking presence or note at all in the larger fishing community. I mean, seriously, how much of that sort of thing actually happens here? None. None at all. We live in a fucking black hole of that sort of thing despite the fact that you'd think those fly fishing film tours should swing right the fuck through here.. I'm not sure I ever need to see the latest and greatest gopro'd hero shots of someone's fishing trip in Timbuktu, but fuckall if I wouldn't at least like the option to say "no" to that nonsense.

So how about you take $10 out of your wallet and head down to the Artsquest building on the 17th and watch this shit? Think of it, you'll get 80 minutes or so of entertainment in the middle of an otherwise shitty cold season of little to no fishing and a lot of holiday assholery.. Furthermore, the more of us who show up at this, the more likely someone will do this again, and furthermore, the money they raise goes to shore up the shitty state of our local streams.

Its win all around. You win. Our blasted landscape wins. The people putting this on win. Winning!

Shit starts at 6pm; a pre-game warmup if you will, with the local fry frishing champions out in force doing what we do best (presumably standing around, orating and issuing grandiose statements on the superiority of fly fishing over gear; you know there's gonna be some tweed up in that bitch).


More info at www.monocacytu.org and www.artsquest.org.

Fucking off the CWA, historians, and a select population of stringer janglers.

Now you see it...

...Now you don't.

Thanks in no small part to the efforts of the Monocacy Creek TU Chapter, the City of Bethlehem, and the many people who are responsible for the festering sore of shit known as Musikfest (coz flooding is bad for business, and you know they cried about it endlessly, lost revenue, etc etc etc; Money is our God), the dam in Johnson Park along Monocacy Creek is now gone.

Actually, it has been for awhile now. I just don't care to do updates because, honestly, this is pretty lame and I realize now. Not "this" the dam removal, "this" a ridiculous egocentric blog wherein I tell you all about whatever shit I've done gone and bought (that'll be the next few installments).

Anyways, let's get on with the good bits. I tried to be useful, and tried to take some before/after pictures, and figure we'll just post them because that is interesting.

That said, lemme specify when I say "I tried," I sort of forgot to take more corresponding pictures of further up the damed section, which was basically a long, slow, flat and shitty pool unsuitable for anything other than the poor bastard stockies which hadn't been slaughtered, some fat carp, and more ducks than you'd know what to do with.

No more frog water.

Now, however, about two weeks after the breaching, and after the work crews have completed and moved on there's some great riffles, some holding water, and the newfound ability of fish to move further up the creek rather than be stuck at a lowhead dam and able to be murdered easily by the creeling masses of the greater Bethlehem area. Ha ha, fuck you and work for it, assholes.

So, after the cut, way more fucking pictures of things that aren't very important to most people, including alot of very-nearly-the-same perspective pictures.

Flies of our Fathers

The "Hardhead." It looks "fishy." Don't you hate people who say that shit?

This is a delightful post about bullshit fly tying, an activity that should be confined to the winter when its generally too shitty to go outside, but if you want to go outside, lemme mention an "event" that a friend of mine, who does not have an ugly American flag coat, likes to have this thing he terms the "Eastern PA Flyfishing Tying [Event]." That's not actually what he calls it, but unless you're versed in idiocy, "jam" makes it sound gay.

And not the good sort of life-of-the-party, occasionally catty, usually well dressed fun to be around happy gay but the seedy van-in-a-parking-lot creepy gay that no one wants to think about.

Anyways, he's doing this for the second year and its mostly a byproduct of a "local" forum getting together and shit. Not unlike that flag jacket guy thing, there'll be lots of assholes tying shit, but its not a trade show or a sell shit event, the format is geared towards the idea that a newbie will show up and learn, even though its basically a bunch of guys from said forum sitting around in a room. Y'know, tying flies. And shit. FWIW, its nice to put a face to your Internet nemesis once in awhile.  Read more, if you want (or not, that's the same link as before), or fuck off... Y'know, whatever.

Anyways, Awhile back, I was killing time in a used bookstore when I came across  a copy of Taking Larger Trout (pub 1950) by Larry Koller for $2.

Being a fan of old shit, and books with meticulously hand drawn colour plates (can someone explain the difference between a plate and a picture, besides classiness of term?), I bought it and promptly stuck it on a shelf and forgot about it.

This weekend, I found a really striking, and forgotten, fly in the back pages of it, the Hardhead.

A fly so striking I was immediately taken by it, and promptly tied, the shimmering swords and contrast in body materials came across immediately in print, that even if I never catch anything on it, I had to at least take an interest in making it.

Further thoughts on the Heritage Fly Shop, and shit. Mostly the former...

Its pretty fascinating the amount of hits I actually get for the Heritage Fly Shop. Good that people are looking for something about it, bad that my shit is polluting their minds. So, to try and not be a complete dick I guess I should make it quick to say the following helpful things:

One, there's no website. There's a Facebook page. Someday the universe will figure out that Facebook is out to fuck them and stop using it, but free is free and I get it.

Two, the contact information is on their Facebook page. For those of you who don't use Facebook, because you've figured out they're out to fuck you and stopped using it, I'll reprint the information below:

Heritage Fly Shop2643 Fish Hatchery RoadAllentown, PA 18103610-248-8836

Monday and Thursdays by appointment. Tuesdays, Wednesdays, Friday through Sunday 9 to 2.

Three, you guys should totally buy something from the guy because he's just that nice, and while he doesn't have alot of high end shit (why bother, its a small storefront), he does everything you need on the stream (sundries, flies, etc) and what you'd want to tie your own when you got home. He also seems to have a steady assortment of really cool old custom rods that keep showing up. This is not the way to please me as I cannot afford them. Perhaps you can.

If you think he's giving me something, he's not. It would be nice, but I assure you no one actually wants my help. I'm just that motivated to pitch in.

Oh, and if you're wondering about Lehigh Valley sulphurs, the answer is "yes." More on that tomorrow. Or tonight. Or never. I am astoundingly lazy.

On Sulphurs, the Lehigh Valley, its fly shops, and the Heritage Fly Shop.

C'mon, that bitch is charming, and you know it.

According to the US Census, the Allentown-Bethlehem-Easton-PA-NJ-Metroplex, aka Lehigh Valley, is the third most populated area in all of Pennsylvania... so why the hell can't we have a big ole fly shop without driving to goddamned Reading?

Oh well, at least we have the Heritage Fly Shop, formerly the Little Lehigh Fly Shop.

That's not really a fair assessment. To say, in the past, "at least there's the LLFS" was a fair statement, because the former proprietier was, for all intents and purposes, a raging cockhole. That's probably part of why its not his shop, but someone else's, now.

Don't get me wrong, Dave (the new guy) has the same floor space and general supplies the old shop did, but he brings a much better atttitude about the place...and frankly, that matters. Alot. I will go out of my way to buy what I can at the LLFS rather than bulk up a mail order for sundries elsewhere, because you want to support the local guy, and especially the local guy who's not a raging asshole.

So, this part of the post, Dave, is dedicated to you for not being an asshole, and for being not only the sole fly shop of the Lehigh Valley, but the one with the most character. While my meager purchases probably don't make much of a dent, I'll continue to give them to you because you smile at me and greet me when I come through the door, and that means a whole lot.

Dave sold me a Fenwick, gave me some tips on using woodchuck fur, and generally is a good guy. I wanted to give him free publicity. Go buy something from him. 

Now, if I hear one more asshole tell me they're fishing sulphurs I will fucking murder someone.

Welcome to Open Season. (see, its funny coz I used that title a year ago)

Sure looks regal, eh? Has no bearing on this post.

Fuckin eh, new year. Well. Open season and shit.

Christ, almighty I hate the four fucking weeks I have to endure "closed season" each year. Because, inevitably, it will contain awesome weather, time where I'm free, and...err, restrictions to the same two fucking miles on each stream segment as the rest of a fucking population of assholes.

Including super fucking self important internet nymphing superstars who will loudly splash into the stream less than 20' away from you, and just upstream of the pool that's frankly, filled with eager and happy fish under faster water so they're particularly stupid, that you were about to get into as soon as you went under the bridge (that's approximately 20' wide, if you see where I'm going here).

All the while shouting to his buddy how its is favourite spot to fish.

I won't mention the stories about watching you manhandle a fucking 12" fish for 3 minutes while your pal ran to teh car and got the camera, either. I suspect its douchebaggery such as this that has you out of the already douchey competitive fishing scene, eh, pro-spec?

fuck yeah, sea king.

http://www.lehighvalleyramblings.blogspot.com/2012/03/perrucci-pulls-plug-on-luxury.html

"What flies do I pick?" bullshit reposted coz I'm lazy like that.

A paraphrased streamside discussion over one lunch break:

"I just have one question for you..."
"What's that," I responded far less irritated than I would for most newbies.
"What flies do you use...?"

I told him to come here and hunt up the old post I made about beginner flies.

I'm just making this lame-ass self-reblogging to bump it up top for the year, and because I can. Mostly because I can. Suck it, its my blog and you can make your own if you don't like it.

If you're desperate for more insect knowledge, grab a copy of Charlie Meck's "Pocketguide to Pennsylvania Hatches" or whatever its called. Its small, and its handy and you'll soon reach a point where you too can say, "its brownish, and its about this big...so, this fly'll do." Or you'll speak Latin at other assholes who need more useful things to occupy their minds. Whatever.

Combat fishing: Drainage ditches run in funny places.

Allentown's urban streams require speciality equipment.

And not neccessarily "ha ha" funny, either.

One might surmise I had to augment the usual equipment for this (extended!) weekend's jaunts, and you're right. I took in two new places I'd been thinking about in the past, and since one was in a not-so-good area (or so I'm told), I figured I'd have to add something with a little more punch than the usual 5wt.

With all the rain and my distinct distaste of high water, when I got my chance to go out this weekend I decided to take in a new place I"d driven over many times, but never bothered to look at. A friend told me a new park had opened in Catasauqua, and I figured since I tried something new on the first chance I got, I'd try something different on the second chance: A look at Trout Creek in the middle of Allentown's most upscale neighbourhood.