Alligators in the fucking park. C'mon, dicks.

Alligator swims in Lehigh Valley Creek.

BETHLEHEM, Pa. - Bethlehem police say they captured a 3-foot-long alligator after a resident spotted it going over a waterfall.

Police say it took several rounds of hide-and-seek before they could remove the reptile Sunday from the Monocacy Creek.

They say the alligator hid in deep water beneath the falls several times before Officer Eric Yeakel captured it.

A local reptile expert confirmed it was an alligator and took it to a reptile store for treatment.

Bethlehem Police are seeking the public's help in determining how it ended up in the creek.

Someone's a fucking douchebag for this bullshit. Clearly, this is the fuckin step falls in the Illick's Mill Park, a regulr fishing spot for me as well as my recent destination for  my night fishing sojourns because its well lit, easy to wade, and I generally don't fucking expect any fucking crocofuckingdiles.

The Modified Pflueger Medalist.

Seemed like a good idea at the
time, which was rather late.

Sulphur time is upon us. but I still can barely catch a fish, thank Jebus I don't fish for food or I'd starve.

Probably lose more weight, though. I suppose you find the good side of things when you can. That's probably why, when fishing through the park this evening and having my fly brutally ignored by every riser I put in front of, I didn't mind. Seems a nice group of churchies decided to spontaneously erupt into gospel for me, and provided a lovely serenade to my failure.

S'OK, though. Still had one of the nicest evenings I'd ever had. Beats the bad amateur rock bands I've fished through listening to, which was different but annoying. Its not that I'm a gospel fan, but really, its a great way to really accent the pleasure. I made sure to thank them, and they were kind enough to give me another song.

Being brutally skunked in the middle of an awesome hatch is pretty humiliating, though. So, I decided to get crafty, tie up a hair mouse and then go fishing in the same park (willfully breakin' the law!) at 2am. It was stupid, and fruitless, but what the hell, gotta try it once. Guess the music was the only blessing I was gonna receive that day, eh?

Less mouse, more Medalist. Go!

So, if its not obvious to anyone who's read this, I like to stand out. I also like to do things Ye Olde Way, with a real interest in proving to people that yesterday's junk is still good enough, and you don't need titanium alloy mega arbor reels with ceramic water cooled inline offset caliper 23 surface drags on rods constructed from boron-kevlar fiber that are as light as a gnat and propel triangular ribbed tactical strategic combat-ready line at light speeds. That meant  embracing the humble Pflueger Medalist.

 So, a throw away line in a Lefty Kreh book and some spare time was all the inspiration I needed to make a statement.

Meeting people is easy, and the Usual bullshit (that's a fly tying pun, eh).

PAFF epic spotburn in full effect! Eat it!

You can probably figure out from the banner, I broke the 15 minute barrier. Shit, I not only broke it, but I crushed it in what one could consider to be (anti)heroic proportions. Bitches, I drove my ass 157 miles beyond home to the State College area to partake in the PAFlyFish.com Jamboree and potentially ride out the coming Rapture in a nest of damned heathen fly fishers.

Stupid flies done stupid cheap. The
Usual tutorial after the jump.

These guys have been doing this for many years now, and I finally got around to getting out there. It was dicey in the end, with my natural hatred of human interaction, twin three year olds crushing my wife's sanity, and fear of pariahship (you might be surprised to know, but I'm a bit of a thorn in the side of many) kept me away.

But, a quick switch up on work oncall rotation and a generous offer from one of the fellow forumites, and I was enroute. So, what's the verdict?

Gulf coast idiocy, a photoessay; CGR redux, gearwhoreage in paradise.

I like long walks on the beach and sunsets, ladies.

Hi honey, I'm home.

My father and step mother offered to fly myself, my wife, and the kids to Naples, FL for a week. Now, due to a mix of stress and associated bullshit, I never felt the urge to even look into this, so I went in blind knowing only there was a beach to walk, mangroves that would need a boat, and "a pond out back with little bluegills in it, but [your humble narrator] wasn't going to be interested in those little fish," or so thought my father.

Yep. Lies, BTW. Just about everything I read was lies, except for the guy who said "take a spinning rod." He was right, I think, although I ignored his advise. Also,  the airlines said "nothing over 28 inches," which is also a lie.

Until they kill Osama and your return flight features extra anal security. But, that's not germain to the story. Its not, really, except to say I had my gear shipped back to me. Thats what everyone suggests, and that's what I did.

But look, this isn't about any of that. Its about presenting a story of more-or-less leaving for South West Florida on a lark (coz again, I did zero research in the months leading up to this), with 48 hours to gear and go. Its also about appending the tale of the Cabela's CGR rod, and determining its good and its bad side. I won't lie, the first part of this is ego, that crunchy bit people might care about, well that comes last.