Holy shit, its July already.

Superfine 1wt, clicker CFO, and size tiny tricos. Whee?

I'm a bit of a niche angler, I guess. I've always liked the lightest of gear, because I'm happy to fish for little fish. When I was a kid, I enjoyed panfish on my ultralight Daiwa with 4# test, and when I started fly fishing I liked the small-to-medium fish on a moderate flex 4wt instead of the industry standard 5wt, and wanted to keep going lighter.

Through a series of unfortunate incidents, I ended up with an Orvis Superfine Trout Bum 7'6" 1wt at the tail end of last summer. I was sold on it big time.

I spent the entire summer, and part of the fall, walking my local stream, low and clear, and casting dry flies to likely lies. Without being my usual arrogant self, I'd like to say I got good at it. I couldn't wait 'til summer came around again. Hell, I even thought I'd consider getting up for tricos in the morning a time or two. I know our local board is having a get together July 9th for trico fishing on the Little Lehigh, which is a fine way to really announce winky little flies on superlight rods have returned to my life.

Yep, its summer time, except the train has gone off the rails.

Back on June 6th, I wrote a post about how I was feeling ill. I thought it was Lyme Diesease, but the gallon of blood the doctor took told me it was CMV, a virus. I spent two weeks total sick and recuperating, only to be told the first free weekend I had that it was time to paint the house.

I hate painting. I also managed to pull a muscle in my back, crippling me from the knees down, and preventing sleep, movement, or much in the way of amusement. The day before I decided to see a doctor for some muscle relaxants, though, it all got much, much worse.

I started to drool. Consistently, out of the right side of my mouth. Take a sip of beverage, and a tiny little spray would shoot out. I figured I was tired. I figured wrong.

Artist's interpertation of my face.

 

The next day, at work, my coworker asks me if I'm OK. One eye just keeps blinking, the other one doesn't move at all. I tell him to fuck off when he says it looks like I'm having a stroke. A minute later, someone different asks me why I'm only talking otu of one side of my mouth.

They were right, of course. And it did look like I was having a stroke.

Thankfully, that wasn't it. Its called Bell's Palsy, and half my face is dead. I can't open my whole mouth, drink without drooling, eat without dropping food or even close my eye while I'm sleeping. You ever try to sleep with one eye open? Literally? Its not easy. Actually, its fucking unpossible.

So, I had many a great plan for this summer, all sorts of fun shit. Haven't done any of it. June's been a complete waste, and I'm unable to see a size 14 high-vis fly, much less something tiny like a trico. Even if I could see them, with no depth perception, fly placement is a bear.

Sucks to be me, eh? Whatever. Now, it'll get better (but no one knows how long, weeks, months, year or more), I figure I should be out for about a month or two (I think I feel gloriously healing pain in my cheek sometimes), but, I dunno. Figured I should write something so this isn't abandoned, but suffice to say, I don't know how much fishing will be done.