We hung around in the Centennial State for a few days after the ISE show and were fortunate enough to hook up with some like-minded citizens of the fin, folks that didn't mind showing a few of their locals to a fella that doesn't normally see flowing water in the winter. The idea of catching trout in January is something we can get behind, even if it does involve extended air travel.
Fortified by a bitchin' chicken-fried steak from the Breakfast Queen, we drug our sea-level-acclimatized carcass across what seemed to be a minor Himalayan pass on the way to a funky little flow that our man Slave had designated as the target du jour. It took us awhile to get into the feel of things, 'cause sz26 flies aren't really part of our vocabulary, but we got into the groove just in time to say hi to a new friend from the mountains.
The Killer Fuzzball, makin' sure we get it done proper.
Day 2 was spent brownlining in the industrial district, dodging various unidentified floating objects and trying not to scrape the flesh of any body parts we might need in the future against the rebar-and-asphalt-infested riprap. Throwing flies that looked as if they were wiped off of something rather than hatched, we stumbled around under the various bridges and graffiti-covered revetments that constitute the riparian habitat of our quarry. Wooly was the first to break the seal, hookin' up with a nice specimen in the Tetanus Hole. We followed suit soon after, landing our first intentional flyrod carp, and Slave tightened up the formation by landing a Rocky Mountain Bone of his own. A few fishless holes later, and the siren song of beer and barbecue forced us into retirement.
Wooly, payin' arm-service to our carp.
But that was then and this is now, as they say. A few more loads of laundry, a quick repacking session, then it's off to the PNW for a few shows. As is the standard, we will be totin' a few twigs along for the ride. Word around the campfire is that Ratbone has a new raft he needs to test out and a shoulder in need of rehab, so we're planning on holdin' down pointy-end duties on an as-yet unnamed river in WA...and in a weird, masochistic way, we're sorta lookin' forward to getting duct-taped into a mummy bag and thrown in the back of Bacon's truck again for another ride to the fabled flows of Beatdown Territory.
Here today, WA / OR in a few days. RoadTrip '10 v2.0, kids.
It's what keeps winter interesting.
No comments:
Post a Comment