When I woke up yesterday it was rasnowing. You know, a sweet mixture of rain and snow. It was exactly the kind of mixed weather signal that just dared me to go out and fly fish in it. So being the brave and fearless sort of fisherman that I am, I grabbed my gear– plus one dog and headed straight for a Fly Shop to pick out a new fly or two that gave off a rasnowing fishing vibe.
I do love visiting this fly shop. The guys that run it, (especially you Michael) are always smiling, helpful and encouraging of my activities both on the river and this website.
While Michael and I sifted through the flies we chatted it up, fly shop style. Like a good Fly Fishing Pastor, Michael kept me in check when my hand hovered over the stripper pole flashy type nymphs and he dropped several Holy Celestial flies into my plastic tithing cup. No multicolored flash with neon disco dubbing and extra large beadheads for me…..
As I was waiting to check out I found myself surveying another anglers pile of purchases. Now, normally I would never snoop like this, but something caught my eye and I couldn’t resist (no really, there was no containing myself) asking what in the world were those thingamajigs. Now, I won’t get into what those thingamajigs were because that calls for a whole ‘nother blog entry, but I was concerned about the wayward angler and told him I had a better solution right outside in my truck.
My Fly Fishing Good Deed for the week got a check mark when I shared two items from my personal stock of illicit and controversial enablers. Based on the ratio of good vs. evil, I realize today I probably could have gotten away with one sinfully sparkly fly because my good deed would have balanced out the sinner flash……
Sinful flash aside, I believe that my good tidings to the Fly Fishing Brethren did inspire a bit of reward from the weather front. It stopped rasnowing while I was in the Fly Shop and only a non-fisher type would argue that these things aren’t all linked together in one large cosmic cloud of FATE.
The ever loyal Bandon and I raced down to the river for what ended up being an afternoon of tree snags and little hatchery trout. I don’t know about the rest of you, but I absolutely hate losing flies and typically I hold onto my little furry friends like a nun clutches her rosary. The area I choose to fish was new to me and despite exploration I was unable to find either a wadeable area or a section of river that wasn’t surrounded by trees, bushes and weeds.
Perfect for the fish of course, a nightmare for casting and missed hook sets. I won’t admit how many flies I lost or how many trees I climbed or even how many cuss words I spewed. Instead I will let yesterdays fly fishing excursion lie in the past and offer up a mini-video I took while retying for the blankenty blankth time.
Disclaimer: I didn’t take a camera yesterday. This is from my new Blackberry which I took to the river swaddled in 2 ziplock bags. I’ve never done video and I’m not convinced I should. There’s a reason I don’t have a lot of pictures of myself and furthermore, why there are no videos of me. I tend to flip off camera operators, spit like a hissing cat and run the opposite direction when a lens is lurking around. But, because of this person…..and this person….I’m testing out the possibilities with this irrelevant, shaky and pointless video ~
I know. I’m as big a chicken as Bandon is, but at least I don’t try to lick fish ~