I. Went. Fishing. (was Kabuto 8053, pt 2: A "review;" and vulgarity laced musing on dry fly purism and gearsnobbery.)

Yesterday was April 20th, 2024.

 

I went fishing.

 

I forgot what it's like to go outside the house. Also, holy FUCK did I get fucking FAT. And my feet hurt. And I don't know where any of my shit got to so I just grabbed random shit that was all teh worst shit ever for a fat fucking fuck stuck on the banks because I cant' fit into my waders and I didn't wanna wet wade coz its fucking cold and I'm a baby.

 

But.. I went fishing. So that counts, right? Shit, I still know how to do it!

 

Also here's something that was waiting as a draft from 1/10/18. I'll never complete it. Hell, I won't even READ it, but I'm gonna fuckin' post it.

 

So there you have it.

 

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After my first year or three of fly fishing, I'd settled into patterns. I only fished dry flies, or a dry/dropper with an unweighted fly 18" or so under a bushy dry, and I frequented 20' to 30' wide tree lined creeks. I was,  I think, moderately successful, at using these flies and setups and was only getting better at it. At the time, I was busy formulating my fishing timearound these two styles.

Traditionally speaking, "dry fly action" rods were fast, tip, action regardless of the material. If you look at current dictum, assholes say you fish dry flies with slow rods, and this is why they're assholes. Slow rods don't dry your flies on a cast. Slow rods aren't precision tools that generate tight loops into small targets. Slow rods don't set the hook with aplomb when you're fishing up stream and with mended line across braids. Those are all attributes of faster rods.

What slow rods do well, though, is provide that tactile and great feeling of a rod loading and unloading. They provide a more visceral enjoyment in casting your line, which is arguably the draw to a dry fly purist. The thing is, a fiberglass (or bamboo) rod can provide that feeling as you get to enjoy the feeling of the rod's loading and unloading due to the mass in the tip, the way you can feel the energy roll out your arm and down the rod and line.

Home, sweet home.

I'd spent some time looking for the right rod to fit the criteria of how and where I fish the aforementioned dry fly purist thing in small, usually forested, creeks. I'd gone from an 8' 4wt Versitex rod (fished with a SA GPX 4wt line, making it essentially a 5wt rod) to a Fenwick 756, 7'6" 6wt rod which really helped me understand that fiberglass didn't mean limp. In usage, the two rods basically handled the same, the two (or, really, one) line weight difference being lost in the way the material itself handled casting (glass versus IM6 graphite).

All of this long-winded preamble shit basically sets up my preferred choice to fish these flies in these waters: A rod that's a true medium (to med-fast, if you must), 8', AFTMA 5wt, and (for me) fiberglass. It also had to look fucking stellar because this was going to be my perfect rod. So, I ordered a Kabuto 8053 blank; based on word of mouth, it met my requirements. Now I've finished it, and fished it quite a few times, and I'm willing to tell others what I think, because I'm a big enough fuckin egotist to assume you give a shit.

And its my blog, so whatever.

glade squires sounds like a dick.

I dunno, I go do a thing and not some things and I guess there's some sort of new level of dickery about a local creek. So like, I read more and it appears that there's a guy who's parents actually named him "Glade Squires." 

I mean, don't get me wrong, "Squires" is pretty badass as far as names go. I mean you've got.. what, a popular misspelling of a guitar manufacter and Chris Squire, who played a guitar but is only singularly named, and not plural. Actually, I guess "Squires" isn't very cool at all, other than the q.

So duder's some sort of guy of importance in the fish commission, and now he's all hot to stock local creeks in strange new ways:

Commissioner Glade Squires, of Chester County, suggested the commission stock the creek within the park boundaries with rainbow trout and allow all-tackle fishing for them specifically. The commission could maintain the existing trophy trout rules in regards to brown trout, he said.

Such a change makes sense because Saucon Creek represents “a significant opportunity” to provide fishing in an urban setting for families, he added.

 So, I guess that's an idea.

And holy shit, did we even talk about the name "Glades?" Who names their fucking kid "Glades?"  How goddamned douchey is that name? Can I say that without it being libel or something? Anyways, Glades. Holy crap.

So, yeah. Glades has strange and awful ideas. He also had support from people with far more common names. These are the people who are responsible for our shitty sport continuing, and fuck knows Saucon Creek has enough problems without crap like that; like the coop hatchery the local mouthbreathers keep trying to open on the banks of this place, a hatchery that ole Glades was also in support of.

So, I dunno. Maybe it's not the place you go, but the thing is if it starts in one shitty stream in my backyard how do you know the next one won't be in yours? http://fishandboat.com/inform.htm

flyfishing hipsterism.

i did it before it was cool.

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.

I buy shit.

But sometimes it can turns out OK.

Before.

After.