Crap that makes your head explode

Apparently there are as many nut jobs in Washington, D.C. as there are in Montana.

The good folks in the House of Representatives want to keep the federal government running. That's a good thing. And, while they're at it, they're taking a swipe at a lot of conservation work that's funded by the federal government.

Head over to TU's website to find out the facts and TAKE ACTION.

Quick Sips: More conservation. And chicks.

Back from Asia and hankering to do some fishing. I've got a trip planned in March but water levels are nice and the ice has cleared on some small streams. Maybe it's time to see if some sluggish fish will tug on the line.

• Stop Eating Wild Steelhead: Apparently there aren't enough of them and the laws protecting them have some loopholes. Go give a read and find links to support this work.
• The ladies in the audience can just ignore this one. This is for the gents (and those ladies who prefer this sort of thing). Sports Illustrated finally recognizes the art of fly fishing in their swimsuit issue.
• Article in the Journal Inquirer speaks to the idiocy downside of closing the Kensington Hatchery. Definitely worth the time to write a letter to your state rep on this one.

Mumbai laundry. Water. No Fish.

Quick Sip: Protect Connecticut Rivers

I got this email from TU today. Thought it was worth passing along. Basically this bill would prevent the DEP Commissioner from applying water regs to economic development activities. What a bunch of nut jobs we've got in Hartford (okay, maybe not as bad as those guys in Montana). Link below to send email to State Reps.

Connecticut Rivers in Jeopardy

Connecticut's rivers and streams and the trout that inhabit them are in jeopardy.

In a surprise move, lobbyists working for opponents of statewide streamflow regulations have introduced legislation that would repeal a 2005 law protecting our rivers and streams.

Bill 1020: An Act Concerning Water Resources and Economic Development will be discussed in a public hearing of the legislature's Commerce Committee.

This bill threatens to reverse the work we have done over the past 5 years and delay implementation of regulations meant to keep our river's flowing naturally during the hottest summer months - protecting trout and the entire river ecosystem.

As a member of Trout Unlimited and committed conservationist, please join us in taking action today to protect our local rivers.

TAKE ACTION: Send email to State Reps

Quick Sips: including "You Can Save Bristol Bay"

• Orvis and Trout Unlimited seem to be teaming up to oppose the Pebble Mine development in Alaska's Bristol Bay area. If you know your zip code Orvis has taken the pain out of the process by identifying your reps and providing a suggested email. All you have to do is hit Submit!
• If you've fished Montana you know there are great waters upon which to cast a fly. What you might not be aware of is their fisherman friendly access laws. Some folks are trying to change that. You might add your voice by shooting the Governor an email of support so that he vetoes the damn thing. Quote of the day: “I think there's a coalition who will stand up for Montana's sportsmen and women,” Van Dyk said. “The House GOP's actions today are par for the course. The monkeys have gotten a hold of the zookeeper's keys over there.”

Fishing, Mumbai Style

Got into the hotel early this morning (2 a.m. ish) so didn't really know what the landscape was like. Awoke this morning to discover that the hotel is on the banks of Powai Lake. This lake was a reservoir built in the mid-1800s and which over time went from drinking water supply to cesspool. Now it's reborn as a fishing lake. Of sorts.

Powai Lake (and my reflection in the window)

As I stared out at the expanse of greenish water I wondered, as would any fisherperson, if it contained fish. And then I noticed two things. First a few larger barge like boats. Second, a flotilla of inner tubes. Okay, flotilla is probably an overstatement, but a couple of inner tube sailors paddling about. Now those guys were clearly not out to splash about and cool off on this stifling morning. They moved with purpose. They were fishing.

Inner Tube Fisherperson

The captains of these boats tubes were working the structure, shallows waters and bays, looking for the fish. They would lay out about 10 yards of netting and then paddle away from the structure. Once they were in an opportune location they would hop into the water and wade about driving the fish towards the nets. Pretty crafty.

Setting the net.

I didn't see anyone catch anything so I was sorta glad to see that skunking was universal to all cultures. But then I thought that these guys are trying to put food on the table and that added a whole new perspective to the endeavor

Big Fish

I'm sitting at the British Air Lounge at Heathrow and my dear friend Eric Clapton saunters over and sits down. He asked that I take a furtive, grainy photograph in order to capture the essence of the moment.

Of course I ran over and gushed like a school girl at a Justin Bieber concert. I told him about the Clapton shrine I keep in my closet where I worship him and sacrifice Bieber records tapes dvds mp3s upon the alter of Clapton.

And of course we reminisced about stalking the bones on the flats of Andros.

Or not.

Good entertainment whilst waiting for the flight to Mumbai. Gary took a better photo (two middle aged guys taking clandestine photos of a rock icon. How lame is that?) I'll post that later.

My leg and Eric Clapton.

Still not fishing (with photos!)

This past weekend I combined snowshoeing with a stroll past a favorite small stream. I didn't have a fishing rod but brought along a camera so that at least I could get some pictures that might relate the notion of fishing. I'm off on business trips for the next few weeks so I hoped that a glimpse of the waters would at least hold me for a while. Unfortunately, no water was to be seen.

This particular stream, no wider than eight feet or so at its widest, runs through a small valley. It's decidedly suburban criss-crossed by many roads and bordered by all manner of strip malls and commercial enterprises. Some of those have almost been its undoing over time.

If a few places it strays from the road and this is where this stream is at its best. Small pocket water. Broad riffles. Tree lined banks (some courtesy of the Candlewood Valley Chapter of TU). Beautiful, trout holding, plunge pools. One can begin to get away from it all especially when the stroll along its banks is accompanied by the meditative rhythm of fly fishing.

Quick Sips

• I renewed my stack of fishing and hunting licenses yesterday. I fish regularly in Connecticut and New York with occasional forays into Massachusetts. That requires a stack of permits (and $s). I bought the CT license a few weeks ago when I fished the Farmington but had yet to get to the others. Online license sales are a godsend given that it isn't easy to buy a license in three states no matter how small those states are. Of course, the states are concerned about false statements in these documents given that no one is sitting inspecting your ID. Massachusetts takes the cake for best warning about false statements:
  
  

  

  A couple hundred dollars of licenses

  By clicking on the 'Enter Sales' link, you swear under the pains and penalties of perjury that the information in your customer profile is accurate.
  
  "Pains and Penalties of Perjury!" That sounds serious. But my first thought was, "Who talks that way?". Of course this is the "Commonwealth" of Massachusetts and I swear I saw folks wearing those goofy Pilgrim hats the last time I fished the Deerfield River. They probably still use the stocks for punishment.

• He's Back! The Unaccomplished Angler returns to document future unaccomplishments.
• Fresh Coffee in the woods. Its a dream. A mirage. A fable. I've eyed the Jet Boil device in the Eastern Mountain Sports store a few times. It's probably one of those toys that would never see the light of day. But damn, fresh coffee streamside....YUM. . Reviewed over on Arizona Wanderings. 

Winter Morning

Yesterday morning. Thirteen Degrees. Clear Skies. No hope of Spring anytime soon.

When will it end?!?

Ice on the river. Ice on the trees.

It kinda purty if ya ferget it's friggin freezing.

The New Phone Book's here! I'm somebody now!

Okay, it's not a phone book, it's only the size of a phone book.

Of course, I'm talking about the hardcover edition Cabelas catalog.

When I first received this tome a half-dozen years ago, I thought it was interesting though entirely unnecessary. Hello! McFly! The internet!? I don't need a book. Send me a few dozen paper catalogs each day, no problem. But a book! Jeez.

Sears abandoned the catalog in 1993. J.C. Penny finally decided to throw in the towel in January (they have catalog stores?!?! Who the hell goes to these things. Mail. UPS. Fedex. Hello!?!?!. ).

Fetch me my telegraph key I have to wire in my order to Mount Pilot.

That Cabelas continues to publish this thing is a stunning anachronism and perhaps even a direct marketing delusion. Who uses this thing? It's too unwieldy to be proper "reading room" literature. And my lovely gives me "the look" when she sees this doorstop laying about. Good lord.

One sec, I have to go help the Pony Express guy switch horses. Be right back.

Okay, I'm back.

My first thought was that someone must have stock in a printing company though upon investigation I doubt it. No where on the catalog does it say "Printed with Pride by Union Workers in the Good Ol' US of A" so my guess is they print it for pennies in the People's Republic of Walmart China.

Don't get me wrong, I like a nice catalog for reading in bed or whilst on the "throne" pondering great things. However, they should be flimsy paper things easily folded and disposed of in the recycling. Can you recycle a book?

So, once again the Cabelas catalog book will wander about the house looking for a proper location to rest. In time, perhaps in a very short time, it will make it's way unread to the large green garbage bin.

Why do they bother?

Damn, I need a Jackalope!

I saw a fish the other night...at a tapas bar

New York City. Foreign Land. Tapas isn't real food. It's appetizers. And drinks. In fact, it's probably just a trick to make you drink more. Two glasses of Pinot Noir, $40. Glad for expense accounts.

Last week I was trapped indoors for a few days in a strategy session with the sales guys. Much fun. No fishing. No fly tying. Plenty of food and drink (so it's not all bad).

And it snowed. Lots.

The same forecast, again and again.

I've plotted a trip in March to Pulaski with Loren Williams and my friend Jon. The intended purpose of the meeting is to learn to cast a switch rod. Of course, I'm also not averse to catching a few shiny, large fish. Until then I'll be a drooling piscator trapped in ice.

Back in Connecticut this week and it's snowing again. For the past few days I've been battling the ice dams on the roof. I was just getting on top of this when the new storm rolled in. It's going to be weaker than expected so perhaps by the weekend the threat of dripping ceilings will be behind us.

In case you need to build hand and forearm strength for the fishing season ahead, I recommend a five pound mallet and a cold chisel. Chisel ice for a couple of hours each day. It's amazing how many muscles you'll find in your hands that you don't normally use in daily life or at the gym. If this continues much longer I'll have one Popeye Arm.

So, with Cabin Fever fully raging, I found a gem of a video on Youtube relating to Brookie Fishing. It's a perfect antidote to falling snow and iced up streams.

Enjoy.