Giving Back I

Spent Saturday on the “project stream” slinging fish. For the 3rd year and the 2nd year moving fish throughout the canyon we put fingerling browns in Arbuckle. I’m hopeful that one day the sewage treatment plants will be fixed and this stream can realize its potential. Right now the jury is still out. But it sure looks the part.

Loading up the fish…

Going across a tiny little bridge en route.

Obligatory Princenymph panty shot (see Arbuckle cleanup post).

Packing in.

This nice couple was vacationing from Pennsylvania. They helped stock a few holes. We happened on them in the middle of the stream. Didn’t see them for a while until I noticed something moving and saw the man trying to shield her while she put her shirt back on. I totally missed that opportunity. Crap.

Jayson and Robbie slingin fish

The size

Fished Dunloup for about 2 hours afterwards. These little punks kept taking my flies all afternoon. I finally got fed up with it and put on a big bugger that they couldn’t hit. I moved two browns, but hooked none. The first time I can remember getting skunked in June ever. Not cool

Castaway’s Musical Youtuberations IV

Flight of the Conchords are too freaking funny to be let go with just two vids.

Think About It…

The Most Beautiful Girl In The Room…

Hiphopopotamus vs. Rhymenocyrus

Ladies of the World

 

Castaway’s Musical Youtuberations III

After a long absence from consuming your mind with fishing snobbery I decided it was time to come back out of the tent, blow on the hot coals a bit and get the campfire raging again. Once I get it raging, I’ll throw on a bit of gasoline, really fire it up, maybe the fire will follow the trail of dribbled gasoline back to my hands and I’ll become completely engulfed in flames. Then everyone will have a good laugh and say, that Phil, he’s such a clown. Then I’ll be taken away in an ambulance where I’ll bring the house down with some good racially insensitive jokes to the EMT’s. But the driver is from Canada and they’ll be offended. So the driver will drive a lot slower and the pain will become more severe. So I’ll have to lighten him up with some songs. But then I find out it is not a him, but a her and I’m really wanting to laugh. So while I’m singing I am trying to hold back the laughter so I keep snorting through my nose which the EMT’s think is my strangling on some sort of bodily fluid. To quell the situation I combine laughter and song in a smooth sense and I crank out “It’s Business, It’s Business Time”…

Oh, let’s not stop there. Flight Of The Conchords is much too high on the scale to be let go with one song. Actually, these dudes need to be heard and heard often. So let’s give ’em one more Motha’uckas.

Now that you’ve gotten everyone in your office contorted as to why you are in hysteria you can safely hit the next two and take the drama down a notch. This is just good listening…

Sea Wolf is a stupid name for a band. Then to use the word “wolf” again in one of their biggest debut songs is equally as dumb. I’ve never understood the rock and roll fascination with the word ‘wolf’, but in other genres it is as ubiquitous as the word ‘beer’ in country music, ‘killed’ in bluegrass music, humming in jazz music or ‘baby’ in bubblegum music. Dumb. But the song is actually good and a track worthy of my regular rotation, even if there only like 12 guitar players in this band…

If you haven’t seen the movie “Into The Wild” yet I highly recommend it. The true story of Christopher McCandless is good, but the cinematography is worth seeing the film in itself. The soundtrack is killer too.

12 step program

Hi. I’m Phil and I’m a cameraholic.

The first step is admitting the problem. As mentioned yesterday, I had aspiration for a short bit of fishing today. I skipped lunch and timed my lunch time perfectly for a stop on an obscure section of Dunloup Creek today. I rigged up my 7 piece travel rod, threw on a pair of leaky waders & boots, flipped a lanyard around my neck and stuck a flybox in my pocket. Note that there was no camera involved. I did not take a camera with me today and for the first time in a very long time I fished without one. It felt a little strange.

This section of the creek is pretty flat, hence why it is overlooked. There are only a few slight riffles and most of the section is lined with houses. There are a few sections of riprap banks where I’ve found fish to hold. I tied on a #14 Hot Hayne Parachute and started to work. Within 5 minutes of stepping into the creek I had made it to one of the spots where a nervous riffle clears out a small pocket of about 2′ wide by about 4′ long by about 2′ deep. Good enough to give up a fish nearly every time I visit this section. I made a perfect cast above the pocket and as my HHP drifted down beside the pocket I high sticked the fly over into the calm. Instantly a nice 12″ brown trout inhaled the fly. After the short fight I had the fish to hand and natural instinct was to reach for a camera.

I have to admit, I don’t take many photos of average trout anymore. Occasionally I do, but normally I don’t make that effort. But for some reason, maybe being such a long 3 weeks since I last fished, I had the urge to photo the fish. I held the fish for a few seconds and it actually felt great not to have a camera. This time I was just fishing. That’s all. Just fishing. Not taking photos. Not taking video. No ulterior motive. Just fishing and it was great. I have resolved to do more of this. Savor the experience by simplifying something that is already simple.

getting back on the horse

My dog ate my homework. Busy as crap this last month. World record rainfall. Ridiculous spouse’s schedule. Gas prices.

No excuses. You only live once. (By the way, this is me talking to me). After a notable absence of extended activity in the rodshop I busted a freakin’ move on Sunday afternoon. I cranked out two of three sections of a blank for Defjam in one sitting. Got to adjust the forms and bust that third out while momentum is rolling.

After glueing up both of them I was able to spend some time at the lathe cranking out a new NS buttcap for NA’s hapless rod. Note to all rod builders, rod makers, aspiring fishing pole artists; don’t buy REC’s all cork NS double sliding band reel seat. I’ve installed two of these on matching 6′ brookie rods and both of them have broken off in a matter of 3 years. I would imagine that at some point I’m going to have to fix them yet again. The deal is that an all cork reel seat is brittle by nature. Couple that with a rod intended for abuse on high gradient brookie streams and you’re asking for trouble. One conk on a rock and the reelseat is busted in two. So that brings me back to the lathe where I pulled my last two hairs out trying to get a mirror finish on the bottom of said buttcap. I hate sanding for hours, but more than that I hate having the emotional high of rodmaking momentum burst with some tedious and time consuming activity.

Maybe. Just maybe. I will get a couple of MUCH needed hours in on the trout stream tomorrow afternoon.