Confessions of a Gear Whore.

We are in the middle of step 4.

After conducting a searching and fearless fishing gear inventory, it has come to our attention that, despite trying to practically GIVE rods, reels and lines away, we still have far too much fishing gear for one sane individual to actually fess up to owning.

Uh, lessee...at least a few halibut rods layin' about...a bunch of old pitchin' sticks and one-piece trigger blanks from the bass days, as well as a couple of stout spinning rods...3 or 4 jiggin' sticks, a half-dozen mooching rods, and at LEAST a dozen steelhead gear rods. A metric assload of old levelwinds, and probably just as many twisty-reels.

Oh.

Flyrods?

Yeah, we got a pile of those too...

Thing is, none of the rods were acquired with any ulterior motives, or for any reason other than fishing.

Some fellas get the latest and greatest, some get the most expensive, some get the one that matches their wardrobe the best, and some buy gear looking for the "silver bullet" the magic that will make their cast longer and straighter while whitening their teeth and losing 20 pounds of ugly flab...others are content to have one rod or one reel and make adaptations as needed.

Us...well, in case you haven't noticed, we're Übergeeks when it comes to fishin' gear. We like to futz and putter with gear, checkin' out the different static and swing weights of all manner of rod, flexing and wiggling a blank while admiring the nodes, scrutinizing fit and finish...more than that, we like the way each rod that we own has its own distinct soul, a different feel, a certain chutzpah about it that makes it a pleasure to cast or to fish with.

We make this last distinction because we readily admit that yes, we have actually purchased rods that are damn near worthless as fishing tools, but are fun as hell to cast.

To this pile, we add one more.

Pros: Good aesthetic, slim blank, whippy in the right way, super-fast recovery, light as a duck fart.
Cons: Lumpy, oversized handle...C'mon Jerry, take some of that cork off, fer chrissakes...crappy name.

We'll see if the new girl holds her own as a fishing tool come spring. Until then, she will just have to take her lumps from the other rods.

Snowing, Snowing...Gone.

Here:


There:



That's right, kids.

RoadTrip '11 v6 begins in 20 hours, 42 minutes, and 11 seconds.

A brief stopover in Starbucksville is in order, to visit the nice older couple we used to live with. After that, we're off to the land of BBQ, Shiner, good Mexican food, and thermometer readings higher than your average presidential candidate IQ.

We'll give thanks in the traditional fashion with the In-Laws, then it's off to TurkeyDayFootballLand for the last rendition of the Showdown. We may be family and all, but we're sittin' on the maroon side of the couch, lest we annoy the wife - She socked us one time when we were rockin' out to a Sabbath album 'cause she thought we were givin' the "hook 'em" sign.

At any rate, friends and family will be looked up, good food will git et, and iced (or "ass" in the local lexicon) tea will be consumed in copious quantity. 8 days in the sun, and we ain't fixin to waste no time enjoyin' it.

See you in December, fisha.

A month in pictures

Back.

Busy.

We'll tell you a little more about it when the dust settles, but we are in the middle of changing tracks on the railroad of life at the moment. Don't you worry, it's been a long time coming, and it IS for the better...

In the meantime, here is a pictoral ode to our piscatorial dance partners, our touchstones of the soul, our eternal finned friends and dihydrogen-oxide-inclined buddies.

Enjoy.
















Pic stolen from Mr. Rogers - thanks, K.












And to top it all off...


It is winter again.

Ready to Run

RoadTrip '11 v5 commences in 12 hours, 44 minutes, and 29 seconds, kids.

We tied 'til our fingers bled for this one, so as usual we got more flies than a Mexican dump. Lotta new questions to throw at the fish, lotta craziness from the dark corners of a fish-diseased mind. We are, of course, fully prepared to get the fin on some of the new creations, but there's others that will most likely crush in new and interesting ways when we get all up in the weird water.

Also a new feature on this trip are the 45'+ lines. We got some quality time in with a few short-bellies, and we are diggin' the feel - we're gonna be hard-pressed to give up the scandi compact love when it comes to skating the pockets, but when we get the chance, we're gonna let the longer dogs do a little huntin' this year.

5 rods
6 reels
18 lines
12 running lines
4 sets of tips...mid-day work, you understand.
3,117 flies
8 miles of leader material
2 lucky hats
1 flask full of Lagavulin 16 year old...only guaranteed to last the first day.



11 full days in the breaks, traveling at night and low to the ground, prowlin' around the water nobody else likes, throwin' darts into the strange and lookin' for new dance partners...

Can't wait, fisha.

The Wetness

We are pretty sure that it has rained every damn minute of every day for the last 30 days running. Realistically, we know this isn't true...it didn't rain last saturday. Regardless, facts aren't important here - we're going for feel, and it feels like October already, and it isn't even fall. Yet. Officially.

At any rate, when a fella can actually find a flow that isn't flooding or doesn't resemble a muddy wash box, things have been pretty good. The dollies are finally coming back to their traditional late summer resting spots after being forced into exile by about a kabillion pink salmon, and the coho run is progressing nicely, thank you. Vise time has been productive as well, with a few new quirks to work on for the local end game as well as the start of RoadTrip season.

Speaking of RoadTrips, RoadTrip '11 v5 commences in a mere 24 days, 19 hours, and 5 minutes - as usual, not like we're counting or anything. 12 days of long rods, desert, dirtbags, and steel, then back to civilization...well, SE AK anyhow. Until then, we're just gonna have to remember to rotate out the soggy gear on a regular basis, and check for mold often.

Scenes from The Wetness.


Humpies, in all their gory glory.

Punchy, gettin' after it for the cameras.

Maggot farm.

The graph from Hell.

Blackwater 'ho.

Locals in the hole.

How to burn up camera equipment in the rainforest.

The aftermath of the "party like you are 19, but fall asleep like you are 42" bash.

Flood damage.

Out with the old...

...and in with the new.

Pot farmin'.

Chunky.

RoadTrip '11 v6 is currently in the works, with a trip to the Gulf Coast in the offing. Big bulls in the grass, a flats skiff, and several cases of Shiner are involved, but we're still in the planning stages - we'll keep you posted...until then, we're just gonna hold out hope for a few more days like saturday.

Oh, yeah...

It's not that we don't like y'all, or that y'all smell funny or somethin - we have just been preoccupied with other aspects of life for a bit and sorta let the whole blogging thing fall by the wayside. After our writing slipped, we started to lose some basic grooming and hygiene skills...come to think of it, we have been grunting and pointing a LOT lately...

ANYWAYS, first it was June that flew by, now a whole 'nother month is gone, and it seems like the ride is picking up speed the older we get. Speaking of older, we have a birthday coming up, so if you happen to have an extra Ferrari or a spare million bucks or something, feel free to send it to Us in lieu of a regular birthday present.

The dog days of summer have come and gone, and we are losing light fast, folks. Every morning we have to listen to that jerk on the radio say something inane like "14 hours and 22 minutes of daylight, a loss of 4 minutes, 49 seconds". Some mornings we fantasize about beating him with his microphone before he gets to the lost daylight part.

Daylight burning, Neil Creek style - scenes from the home games.

Puller


Humptastic.


The dog days


...not so much


Shiny shiny






Damn your eyes



the Killing Fields






Dance partners









Murmurs of a trip, rumors of an excursion have been flying around lately. The official travel agent of the Neil Creek Center has us locked in for RoadTrip '11 v5.0, but the word around the campfire is a side-excursion might have us headed north to a big river with big fish. Supposedly, we're gonna be working during this trip, but we're pretty sure that some play-time has been factored in.

Summer's damn near over, kids. Get it while you can.