The End of the Coastal Cutthroat Trout Season

It's been a mixed bag coastal cutthroat season for me this year. I started the season out with a nice 17" from the upper Nehalem then went on to hook a few nice ones on the Nestucca later in the summer. The Trask, Kilchis and Wilson were not very good this year. The Necanicum was so-so however seeing huge thirty pound plus chinook salmon plowing through the shallow riffles was amazing!
The Trask was a real bust as a lot of the structure that cutthroat like in the lower river was washed out by high water last winter.
A few weeks ago I hooked a very nice cutthroat on BAIT in the Trask tidewater and was just sick about it. I've gotten to the point that I hate bait fishing and was only doing it this time to help out a friend who is trying to put a fishing DVD together in order to sell his jigs. I cannot stand the mess of those gooey eggs and the whole "bait" mentality that prevails in Tillamook county this time of year. I swear that you could use salmon eggs as currency this time of year down there. Using bait for coastal cutthroat trout should be banned! I recently read where the owner of a certain popular NW fishing forum was using bait to hook these fish and immediately fired off an email to her asking her to please quit doing it. Was I out of line doing this? I don't think so! I will strive to get the use of bait for these fish banned.
Anyway last Friday I decided to give one last shot at some coastal cutthroat. I hooked nothing on both the Miami and Trask rivers and being somewhat discouraged about the lack of both water and fish I tried the Wilson on the way home. To make a long story short I did not find any cutts on the Wilson but did find this guy.



What a rush on a four weight bamboo fly rod and 5X tippet! He did all the usual steelhead antics and made me smile all the way home.
Fly fishing is a sport of mystery in a lot of ways and you just never know what you'll encounter.
I've had many trips where the actual fishing was not all that good but I might have seen a family of otters or maybe a bald eagle or an elk and so that makes the trip a success.

With Apologies to Dickens

The opening sentence of Charles Dickens " A Tale of Two Cities" is It was the best of times, it was the worst of times describing the French Revolution but I think that line best describes this time of year for the angler.
Fall is a season of movement and change. The beautiful foliage that one encounters along the way to the river is awe inspiring. The leaves seem to be ablaze with hues ranging from bright red to amber gold. The call of the migratory waterfowl as they head for their southern nesting areas always stops me in my place to watch their "v" formation as they fly over.Then of course there are the salmon!
During this time of year the fall representatives of the chinook salmon
Oncorhynchus tshawytscha begin their journey to spawn in the same water where they were reared years earlier. An angler will be startled to have one of these thirty pound fish roll near them as they are fishing for coastal cutthroat trout. The chinook will be joined by coho and chum salmon this time of year and the whole river is alive with piscatorial activity....these are the best of times.
Unfortunately this is also the time of year that seems to bring out the ugliness of human greed and ignorance. With the spectacle of huge fish in low water conditions the dregs of society cannot control their urge to take advantage of these helpless fish.
They rig up their lead weighted treble hooks and virtually rip these fish off the bottom of the river. Sometimes they will be so good at doing this that they can accomplish their illegal activity while using legitimate sports fishing gear.The chum salmon come into the river in large numbers all seemingly at the same time and are easy prey to these "sportsmen". They think nothing of wading across the spawning redds of these chum salmon and I hate to say it but it's not just gear fishermen who do this.
They actually yank these fish off their spawning redds all in the name of fun. These fish are not fit for consumption and in fact are on the endangered species list. It's as disgusting a sight as one would want to see and hopefully the ODFW will one day close this fishery altogether.
So you combine all of the salmon abuse with the usual littering,physical along with armed confrontations and you know.... these are the worst of times.
You must take the bad with the good and I feel the good does outweigh the bad this time of year.
Such is the life of the angler in the fall of the year.

He has earned the right to speak

After Pat’s Birthday
Kevin Tillman Honors Late Brother's Birthday with Plea to Speak up for Democracy

by Kevin Tillman

It is Pat’s birthday on November 6, and elections are the day after. It gets me thinking about a conversation I had with Pat before we joined the military. He spoke about the risks with signing the papers. How once we committed, we were at the mercy of the American leadership and the American people. How we could be thrown in a direction not of our volition. How fighting as a soldier would leave us without a voice… until we get out.

Much has happened since we handed over our voice:

Somehow we were sent to invade a nation because it was a direct threat to the American people, or to the world, or harbored terrorists, or was involved in the September 11 attacks, or received weapons-grade uranium from Niger, or had mobile weapons labs, or WMD, or had a need to be liberated, or we needed to establish a democracy, or stop an insurgency, or stop a civil war we created that can’t be called a civil war even though it is. Something like that.

Somehow America has become a country that projects everything that it is not and condemns everything that it is.

Somehow our elected leaders were subverting international law and humanity by setting up secret prisons around the world, secretly kidnapping people, secretly holding them indefinitely, secretly not charging them with anything, secretly torturing them. Somehow that overt policy of torture became the fault of a few “bad apples” in the military.

Somehow back at home, support for the soldiers meant having a five-year-old kindergartener scribble a picture with crayons and send it overseas, or slapping stickers on cars, or lobbying Congress for an extra pad in a helmet. It’s interesting that a soldier on his third or fourth tour should care about a drawing from a five-year-old; or a faded sticker on a car as his friends die around him; or an extra pad in a helmet, as if it will protect him when an IED throws his vehicle 50 feet into the air as his body comes apart and his skin melts to the seat.

Somehow the more soldiers that die, the more legitimate the illegal invasion becomes.

Somehow American leadership, whose only credit is lying to its people and illegally invading a nation, has been allowed to steal the courage, virtue and honor of its soldiers on the ground.

Somehow those afraid to fight an illegal invasion decades ago are allowed to send soldiers to die for an illegal invasion they started.

Somehow faking character, virtue and strength is tolerated.

Somehow profiting from tragedy and horror is tolerated.

Somehow the death of tens, if not hundreds, of thousands of people is tolerated.

Somehow subversion of the Bill of Rights and The Constitution is tolerated.

Somehow suspension of Habeas Corpus is supposed to keep this country safe.

Somehow torture is tolerated.

Somehow lying is tolerated.

Somehow reason is being discarded for faith, dogma, and nonsense.

Somehow American leadership managed to create a more dangerous world.

Somehow a narrative is more important than reality.

Somehow America has become a country that projects everything that it is not and condemns everything that it is.

Somehow the most reasonable, trusted and respected country in the world has become one of the most irrational, belligerent, feared, and distrusted countries in the world.

Somehow being politically informed, diligent, and skeptical has been replaced by apathy through active ignorance.

Somehow the same incompetent, narcissistic, virtueless, vacuous, malicious criminals are still in charge of this country.

Somehow this is tolerated.

Somehow nobody is accountable for this.

In a democracy, the policy of the leaders is the policy of the people. So don’t be shocked when our grandkids bury much of this generation as traitors to the nation, to the world and to humanity. Most likely, they will come to know that “somehow” was nurtured by fear, insecurity and indifference, leaving the country vulnerable to unchecked, unchallenged parasites.

Luckily this country is still a democracy. People still have a voice. People still can take action. It can start after Pat’s birthday.

Kevin Tillman joined the Army with his brother Pat in 2002, and they served together in Iraq and Afghanistan. Pat was killed in Afghanistan on April 22, 2004. Kevin was discharged in 2005.

Snakes! Why Does it Have to Be Snakes?

The title of this entry for the unknowing is a line from my favorite movie of all times "Raiders of the Lost Ark"
So I'm walking along the gravel road above the locked gate on the Deschutes. I figured well it is fall after all and so shouldn't these rattlers be hibernating or something? Nope! My little poisonous friend comes slithering across the road in from of me and not used to seeing a lot of snakes it comes as a shock to the senses. It was fascinating seeing him crawl across the road and never taking his eyes off of me.So off he went into the brush. I think the fact that you can encounter such creatures as rattlesnakes adds to the charm of the river. I've seen snakes, porcupines, beavers, coyotes,deer,eagles,heron,ospreys along my favorite river and it never gets old. The Deschutes is truly a wild western river in every sense of the word and it's hard to pull myself away from it.
The trout were as active yesterday as I have ever seen them feeding on what looked like mahogany duns but I'm no entomologist so them may have been something else. I was pursuing steelhead so I wasn't equipped to go after trout but watching them work the foam line and slurping mayflies was a real learning experience.
A good day on the river nonetheless.

Is There Anything Better?

The 2006 Los Angeles Dodgers have clinched a playoff berth at the best place to do it....the home field of the hated San Francisco Giants.
You see I'm a Dodger fan from way back. I attended my first Dodger game at the LA Coliseum back in in 1959. I've eaten a few Dodger Dogs along the way and listened to Vin Scully even after I moved into this baseball wasteland of Oregon and I named the best dog I've ever had "Dodger". I've ridden the crest of the improbable 1988 World Series championship. I've worshiped at the alter of Sandy Koufax and wept at the death of Don Drysdale but the one thing that has sustained me throug the lean years of being a Dodger fan is one thing. My intense hatred of anything connected with the SF Giants. I hated Willie Mays, Willie McCovey, Will Clark and absolutely despise that cheating jerk Barry Bonds. I've often said that my two favorite teams are the Dodgers and whoever the Giants are playing that day.
So for my beloved Dodgers to make the playoffs at the expense of the Giants is sweet! They did it in 2004 when Steve Finley hit a grand slam home run in the bottom of the ninth inning to win the division for the Dodgers. I also reveled in the Dodgers knocking out the Giants in 1993 when they crushed the Giants 12-0 with Mike Piazza hitting two home runs.
To the typical San Francisco fan it is better to beat the Dodgers than to actually win a World Series. I find that sick but I cannot help but take pleasure at anything bad happening to the Giants which takes second place to the Dodgers winning another World Series.
So here's to the 2006 Dodgers....cheers

The Power of the Internet

So with nearly 9000 steelhead going over The Dalles dam on Saturday I figured "Hey there ought to be a few fish in the lower Deschutes"
"You're a friggin' genius Shane" says my loyal fishing partner John "Let's fish the lower Deschutes for some of them there summer steelheads!"
Now this is a Monday mind you! School is back in session and according to our wonderful president George W. Dumbass the economy is booming so everyone is gainfully employed manufacturing hamburgers or some such thing. Surely the Deschutes will be a veritable fishing ghost town...right?

WRONG

We pull into the parking area at Heritage Landing. The same parking area where two short weeks ago had two other vehicles in it. Should have been tipped off by the guys running side-planers on the sand bar and the idiots in their float tubes in areas where I've never seen float tubes before. Oh yeah the 10 gazillion boat trailers should have been a clue also.
Well that little parking area had at least fifteen cars in it now so being the brilliant fishing tacticians John and I are we decided to head up to Maupin and summarily got skunked!!!
But hey we only saw a few other fishermen including one woman who was so worried that we were going to fish "her stretch" of water that she hovered around where I was fishing until I left.
I know, dear reader you are just dying to know what this all has to do with the internet?
With the boast of a million hits per day on the drama queen fishing website one should not be surprised that when a guy posts pictures on the lower Deschutes holding large steelhead and familiar landmarks in the background the masses will converge like a plague of locust.
I used to blow this stuff off but after seeing things first hand on various fishing locales this should come as no surprise at all. It's like that old shampoo commercial.
"They tell two friend and they tell two friends and so on....."
So I'm beginning to think that a successful fishing day doesn't necessarily have to involve catching fish but being able to fish without having to deal with the equivalent of the Mongol hordes on my favorite river

The Two Inch Rule

As the years go by the fish of course get bigger! Sometimes they even change species altogether.
That Deschutes pike minnow will magically transform itself into a big redside after a year or two. Of course it's ideal to never have witnesses to dispute ones "mythical" triumphs or at the very least make sure they are out of sight while these trout are being fought.I once fished with a guy who claimed to have hooked four, count 'em! four chinook all while I was fishing no more than 20 yards from him! Not once did I see his rod or line move...not once! Now that is what I call a skilled angler. Another fellow I used to drift fishing for winter steelhead with many years ago would violently set the hook on every snag or hesitation his terminal gear encountered. He would loudly exclaim "Damn I just missed a fish" then later while were talking about the day to another angler old Bill would proudly proclaim that he had hooked 12 or some like number of fish but just couldn't get the hook into them.
Now of course yours truly would never exaggerate such a thing *wink*

Enjoy the following essay courtesy of "The Contemplative Angler"

It is said that all anglers are liars. I deny that charge, I believe
that anglers simply view the material world in a different, more
open-minded way than the common man. We see the potential in all
things, the spirit of life springing forth endlessly. We know that the
fish we release today might, to the unenlightened gaze and the harsh
reality of a tape measure, be only ten inches long -- but we see more.
Next season it will be twelve inches perhaps, through the normal
process of growth and development; but we must first endure a harsh
winter without angling, and he was the last trout of the season. It
seems only right and proper that by March, that same 10" anemic rainbow
trout is now regaled as "the 18" brown I took on the Sugar, in the last hour of the season".
Nevertheless, there is a general code to our prevarication-- the 2"
rule. You know that when you return to the campfire at day's end,
everyone will have a story to tell about the fish they released/broke
off. The largest fish you took was twelve inches, but if you tell the
lads that, they will assume you are lying, that, in fact, the fish was
only ten inches. To counter their foolish skepticism, you report the
fish as fourteen inches -- everyone is satisfied and understands that
the fish was 12" -- because of the 2" rule. It was not necessary to
mention that it was not a trout, but a fallfish -- after all, among
fallfish it was a beauty.
Catch and Release has, of course, allowed trout to grow in the
manner described. For those who don't understand the merits of C&R,
I need only refer you to the 18" brown I took on the Sugar. That would
not have been possible without C&R.
The most marvelous case of the possibilities of C&R was brought
to me on the Manistee River near Grayling, MI, six years ago. It is
largely night fishing during the Hex hatch, and this night there was
only a sliver of a moon. A dear friend, but inveterate liar, was
fishing one hundred feet downstream of me when he suddenly whooped with
glee. A moment later I could just discern his outline in the moonglow
as he held aloft what he claimed was an 11" brown. I could not see the
fish. However, when we got to the campfire, shivering in the June chill
at midnight, I was amazed to learn that I had been witness to the
capture of an 18" brown. Fortunately, the successful angler was soon
convincing himself of his veracity through the medium of a tall glass,
and, as he was pouring, and it was his bottle, I was equally convinced.
Such is angling. It has many arts and arcane elements, not the
least of which is the 2" rule, use it well and often.

The River Why and other musings

Have you ever seen a cuter little girl? This is my grand daughter Heidi Anne Stewart.
People marvel that such a beautiful child can be related to me! I tell them that my oldest son Troy is just as ugly as me so Heidi obviously gets her good looks from her mother Heather.


I had the opportunity to hear author David James Duncan speak last night and he is as good in person as his books are. His book "The River Why" is a classic and a must read for most progressive thinkers. The fact that it is set right here in the Pacific North West makes the places and characters seem more like people we know than some obscure stranger in a fiction novel.
Another thing that makes Duncan appealing to me is the fact that he is a fly fisherman along with a rabid conservationist. He lives in the same valley of the Bitteroot river where Norman Maclean lived and where the story of his fly fishing family is set.
When you think about it the Pacific North West has spawned many talented writers and artists.There is Chuck Palahnuik of "Fight Club" fame along with the late Ken Kesey and screenwriter Gus Van Zandt. A pretty talented bunch huh?
Any of you that have the chance to read any of David James Duncan's work will not be disappointed. I just ordered "My Story As Told By Water" and will someday tackle the mammoth "The Brothers K".

I fished the Deschutes river on Monday and came away with this startling revelation! Cell phones are not water proof. Yes I was due for one of my famous "two footed punts" on the river and sure enough my cell phone made the ultimate sacrifice for my clumsiness. The river in Macks Canyon area is the toughest wading that I have done on this river and I was lucky to have only fallen once. I did manage an encounter with a steelhead but it was brief.

That New Rod Mojo

I have believed through all my years of fishing that there is something magical about taking a new rod out for the first time. Just seems to be a good fishing catching karma going on there.
So on Monday John, Mike and I headed to the Deschutes in search of summer steelhead. We arrived at the Heritage Landing parking area, suited up and headed up river. John took a few minutes to give Mike a crash course on spey casting and away we went. This was one of those very rare days on the Deschutes when the wind was not blowing at gale force gusts. In fact the wind did not come up at all the whole time we were there and so that should have been the first clue that this was going to be a special day.
After a brisk walk up to the spot we wanted to start Mike stationed himself just above me and started fishing with his new CB Burkheimer custom spey rod. Mike's new rod is just beautiful with agate stripping guides and exotic wood reel seat.He attached a Hardy Bougle reel to it and it was truly a work of art very fitting for a bamboo fly rod craftsman like Mike.After fishing for no more than 15 or 20 minutes Mike let out a shout that he had a take and I told him the fish may be back so keep casting to the same spot. Sure enough he hooks up and the fight is on! Mike is an experienced fly fisherman but this was his first steelhead on a fly and the old "new rod mojo" was really in play here as he landed a chrome bright summer with an intact adipose fin which meant the fish would be released to fight another day. Mike of course was ecstatic and he really deserved this fish. He builds as beautiful a bamboo fly rod as you'll ever see, a true old school bamboo craftsman.
Here is Mike with his fish...Way to go buddy!

Seasons on the Deschutes

Spring......
"Hope springs eternal" as we have endured the long dreary winter. The seemingly endless series of storms and the disdainful practice of using a heavy sinking line that comes no where near the vicinity of the fish. How many flies do I really need to tie after all while I wait for the coastal streams to drop and clear enough to make a fly fishing trip a little less insane? How many times can I wax my cane rods? Yes that first trip over the mountain, full of hope and dreams of rising trout. I know that when spring training for baseball starts that trout is not far behind.

Fall......
The days are getting shorter and the dam counts are getting higher. After fruitless attempts to coerce lethargic summer runs to come to my fly in the 70 degree water of most rivers the first hint of fall can only mean it's time to head to Maupin. The October caddis will be doing their suicidal dive bombings into the water which will make my spey casted muddler irresistible to the steelhead don't you think?
So after a trip or two to the mouth of the river to watch the float tube daredevils cheat death at the Blackberry Hole it's time to head up river.

It's never about the trout...well almost never

It's not always about catching a lot of fish that draws one to fly fishing. It's just a simple desire within myself to get away. There's no stress about who is in the pool where I want to fish because there is always somewhere else to cast a line. Sometimes though, it is about the trout.
So read the poem below with that in mind

Where the wandering water gushes from the hills above Glen-Car,
In pools among the rushes that scarce could bathe a star,
We seek for slumbering trout and whispering in their ears
Give them unquiet dreams;Leaning softly out from ferns that drop their tears over the young streams.
Come away O human child!To the waters and the wild with a faery hand in hand,
For the worlds more full of weeping than you can understand.
Excerpt from " The Stolen Child" W.B. Yeats from The Collected Poems of W.B. Yeats

A Flyfishing Pilgrimage

The North Umpqua is the most beautiful river in a state of beautiful rivers! It's steelhead fly fishing heaven. Nope I didn't get a chance to actually fish it because of time constraints but the water I saw was beyond belief in it's beauty. I think I will go back next year and fish this river where the likes of Roderick Haig-Brown,Jack Hemingway, Major Mott, Mike Kennedy and Zane Grey once fished. When Mike Kennedy passed away a few years ago he was cremated, in accordance with his wishes, along with his favorite bamboo fly rod and his ashes were sprinkled into the river off of Mott Bridge.
I looked into the river from Mott Bridge and saw several summer steelhead milling around in the pool under the bridge. We are truly fortunate to have such rivers like the N.Umpqua, Metolius,Deschutes and Rogue in Oregon. Hopefully people will show the respect these wonderful rivers deserve and treat them like the priceless gems they are.
I actually did get to fish the legendary Rogue but the endless procession of rafters made any serious fishing difficult at best.

On a much more somber note I am saddened by the tragic death of the "Crocodile Hunter" Steve Irwin. He deeply cared for the animals of this planet and though his "shtick" was a little corney he was sincere in his beliefs and the world needs more caring individuals like him.

Ashokan Farewell

I love this tune. I never knew it actually had lyrics until my son Devon sent me the link.
It was used as the main theme music in Ken Burn's excellent PBS series "The Civil War"
I find it haunting but sentimental at the same time and at the risk of sounding somewhat morbid I would like it played at my memorial service after I've made that last "double haul"
Anyway here are the lyrics and music...enjoy!


Ashokan Farewell (Words Grian McGregor; tune Jay Ungar)

The sun is sinking low in the sky above Ashokan,The pines and the willows know soon we will part.
There's a whisper in the wind of promises unspoken,And a love that will always remain in my heart.
My thoughts will return to the sound of your laughter,The magic of dancing, of moving as one.
And a time we'll remember long ever afterThe moonlight and music and dancing are done.
Will we climb the hills once more?
Will we walk the woods together?
Will I feel you holding me close once again?
Will every song we've sung stay with us forever?
Will you dance in my dreams or my arms until then?
Under the moon the mountains lie sleeping,Over the lake the stars shine.
They wonder if you and I will be keeping,The magic and music, or leave them behind.

There ain't no cure for the summer time blues

Dog days of August does not apply just to the baseball season to me at least. It's this time of year that the coastal cutthroat trout have retreated back into the salt water bays and estuaries because the coastal rivers are just a mere trickle right now. The Deschutes summer steelhead have not shown in significant numbers and the Deschutes trout are spawning and should be left alone.
Of course there is always the salmon fishing circus of the lower Columbia river at buoy 10 but I refuse to participate in that fishery. I don't do salt water very well and John Montana has yet to convince me of the wonderfulness of fly fishing for carp (great looking family JM) So after a pilgrimage to Mecca aka Metolius and another one to the NF Umpqua I'm just biding my time until the summer steelhead dam counts over The Dalles are numerous enough to entice me and my faithful fishing partner John Ramey over to the Deschutes. I therefore must amuse myself with major league baseball where my beloved Dodgers are precariously perched atop the NL West with a weekend series ahead with the hated Giants.


Or I can continue my search for the "holy grail" of fly reels, to me at least! The left handed retrieve Hardy Perfect.


Now you watch John Montana will claim to have one that he uses for carp and I will be forced to call the fly fishing authorities on him.

My God! Do you think he had me in mind?

This quote says it all! He surely must be talking about me.

"There he stands, draped in more equipment than a telephone lineman, trying to outwit an organism with a brain no bigger than a breadcrumb, and getting licked in the process." Paul O'Neil - 1965

Fishing and the internet

I'll be the first to admit that I am addicted to internet fishing forums.....so shoot me! I've met a lot of really nice people over the years online. In fact some of my best friends have been met on various fishing forums. I've also met a host of phonies, posers and down right outdoor criminals.
I have stirred the pot a few times on these forums and deservedly, gotten the "cyber" door shown to me. So be it! I am who I am and if someone has trouble with that then they can go f....well you know what I mean.
One person stands out to me as one of the most real and sincere people I know. She suffers from a very serious health problem but you would never know it by reading her posts or her blog. She does not complain at all! She also will rip you a "new one" if you cross her but those who do cross her have it coming. She does not mince words and I find that very refreshing. She knows I'm talking about her and she is what I consider a good "net" buddy and besides she has some really cool tattoos.

Dog days of summer

We are kind of between season now as far as fishing goes. The Deschutes summer steelhead are just beginning to show and the trout fishing is tapering off a bit. I find plenty of diversion, however, in pursuing coastal cutthroat trout.
Very few people bother with them as they are catch and release only and most coastal residents have a harvest mentality so that means limited or almost non-existent pressure on these wonderful little trout.
Very peaceful and reflective time for me when I am out on the river casting to these fish. They aren't huge but are plenty aggressive and fight great!

Could not have said it better myself

Below is a series of quotes about fishing. Some good, some great and all relevant....enjoy

"A trout is a moment of beauty known only to those who seek it." -Arnold Gingrich

"Time is but the stream I go a-fishing in. Its thin current slides away, but eternity remains." Thoreau"

"Listen to the sound of the river and you will get a trout." -Irish proverb

"There is certainly something in fishing that tends to produce a gentleness of spirit, a pure serenity of mind." -Washington Irving

"If one really loves nature, one can find beauty everywhere." -Vincent Van Gogh

"If people concentrated on the really important things in life, there'd be a shortage of fishing poles." -Doug Larsen

"Fly-fishing is the most fun you can have standing up." -Arnold Gingrich, 1969

"To him, all good things, trout as well as eternal salvation, come by grace and grace comes by art and art does not come easy." -Norman Maclean, A River Runs Through It, 1976

"If fishing is like religion, then flyfishing is high church." -Tom Brokaw

"If fishing is interfering with your business, give up your business." -Alfred W. Miller

"Calling Fly Fishing a hobby is like calling Brain Surgery a job." -Paul Schullery

"The difference between fly fishers and worm dunkers is the quality of their excuses." -Anonymous

"Some go to church and think about fishing, others go fishing and think about God." -Tony Blake

"The two best times to fish is when it's rainin' and when it ain't." -Patrick F MacManus

"Angling may be said to be so like the mathematics, that it can never be fully learnt." -Izaak Walton 1653

"I am not against golf, since I cannot but suspect it keeps armies of the unworthy from discovering trout." -Paul O'Neil

"In my family, there was no clear division between religion and fly fishing." -Norman Maclean, A River Runs Through It, 1976

"Rivers and the inhabitants of the watery elements are made for wise men to contemplate." -Izaac Walton

Back in the saddle

Went out on Sunday for the first time since my mother in law passed away. Hooked a pretty good sized trout that made the day a real success.

It's tough to imagine that we won't be doing Christmas and Thanksgiving with my mother in law anymore. I think the reality of that fact will not truly sink in until the time comes.

A real end of an era......

Proud Dad

These are my children and the baby is my grand daughter. I love each one of them and am very proud of them all!
Left to right

Troy - 33 Devon - 26 Kari - 29 Bethany/with Heidi Anne - 23

Death in the Family

My mother in law Phyllis J. Lewis passed away this morning. She was, for the last 28 years, a mother to me in every sense of the word. I will miss her dearly

Here she is in February with Heidi Anne

A tough time ahead for my family

What should have been a great weekend for visiting my grandkids and enjoying them was cut short with the news that my wifes mother has taken a turn for the worse in her struggle for life at the ICU.
We had just gotten to Medford after a day of sight seeing the beautiful Crater Lake ( a first for me)
Got the call from wifes sister that my mother in law was barely hanging onto life.
More later......

Priceless

An imported English fly reel - $450

A custom made split cane bamboo fly rod - $1250


Leaving your $30 raincoat back in your car over a mile away while you are caught in a drenching downpour on the Deschutes river because you are a dumbass and you didn't learn from the last time this happened.............PRICELESS

All Along the Lee Shore

I love the ocean. I love the smells that are associated with it. I love walking along the shoreline and seeing the constant movement of life there. Now don't get me wrong I'm no "Salty Dog" or even a Salty Dog wannabe because I am a bit prone to seasickness but none the less I do love the sea and cannot imagine ever living very far from it.
One song that captures the feel of the sea is this one by CSNY from their "4-Way Street" album recorded all the way back in 1970.

The Lee Shore

Wheel gull spin and glide -- you've got no place to hide cause you don't need one
All along the lee shore shells lie scattered in the sand
Winking up like shining eyes - at me, from the sea
Here is one like sunrise, older than you know
It's still lying there where some careless wave forgot it long ago
When I awoke this morning and dove beneath my floating home
Down below her graceful side in the turning tide to watch the sea fish roam
There I heard a story from the sailors on the Sandra Marie
There's another island a days' run away from here and it's empty and free
From here to Venezuela there's nothing more to see
Than a hundred thousand islands flung like jewels upon the sea for you and me
Sunset smells of dinner
Women are calling at me to end my tales
But perhaps I'll see you the next quiet place I furl my sails

The Anglers Reveille

I especially like this poem"The Anglers Reveille" courtesy of the Contented Angler

Then come, my friend, forget your foes and leave your fears behind and wander out to try your luck with cheerful, quiet mind .For be your fortune great or small, you'll take what God may give,and through the day your heart shall say,Tis luck enough to live.

I know that a "quiet mind" is what I'm seeking when I fly fish. Sometimes I accomplish that and sometimes it seems like the worries of everyday life prevent it.