Pregame jitters

Golden, that's the term Pablo used to describe the conditions we might find on the famed brown sugar creek. With high flows from dam releases necessitated by epic snow fall and subsequent run off, just now coming down and the potential of hungry browns and a salmon fly hatch, the table is set for a memorable outing. Brown sugar has been anathema to me. I've had decent days and I've had mediocre days there, while Pablo and Hondo DeMule have had hopper crushing days of satiation, seems every time I was not in company. A little added pressure comes this year as Jr. The yet unconverted prodigal son will be along, I'm hoping for that magical moment that will transform him from dutiful fishing partner to rabid trout bum, ( well, not too rabid as I am still paying his tuition).

Expectations in this game are a dangerous thing, and I know JB's delusions of gold are more driven by pent up demand from the failed black canyon expedition than any hard data, but what man ever did travel thousands of miles to done waders with out a 49ers pan full of optimism!

So, to the brown sugar gods (last time didn't we catch more rainbows?) I tip my hat and genuflect with the hopes that a trout will rise.

The Best Laid Plans of trout and men

Dang it all to heck! Teeth grinding frustration of the winter from Hades. Why didn't I have more sense than to check the snow pack before booking a flight to Boise back in march for June. I'll tell you why! Because winter does that to a fisherman. It makes him desperate and wildly optimistic at the same time, a heckofa bad combo. Now it's flipping June the summer solstice and there is too much snow to get into big creek. My calendar is a mess, I spent a horrific amount of money on gear for this trip, Wilson help me, wore out an Alaska air visa. Pablo is heading north in a month anyway so this would only be an appetizer for him. I smell the curse of the fish gods settling upon me. It was the Kvichak/ Pongo double haul last year that stoked their displeasure for sure. I figure with Pablos triple haul this summer we'll go down in a fiery ball of float plane against an ungivinuk mountainside, and that will be that. dang it all to heck. My greed has gotten the best of me! I'm being humbled. For the first time in 3 years I will spend July 4th on a merrily decorated golf cart with a pack of octogenarians and toddlers dancing to beach music, lighting sparklers and watching fireworks. Instead of in an airport come or going to the great hatchery of the north country. Dang it all to heck!

The UnGuided~ Season 1 Episode 1 The Naknek

Gov asked me to write about my experience on the Naknek; but I cannot. That whole trip was a roller coaster ride, at times I even thought of throwing up (Eddies Restaurant, don't get the Reuben).
That river, oh that river; she gives and takes away. Fickle as a ...(insert favorite noun)... her blustery moods can destroy, she can give up her jewels from the crystal water, or she can write you a $200 ticket. Either way, you'll never forget her. She will forever haunt you. There, I did have something to write.

Here it is.. Episode 1

The UnGuided: Pilot (unedited)

Here's the Pilot episode for the upcoming (after editing) new reality show.  Anyway, this is a quick peek at some raw footage. I'll see if I can put something together in a few weeks, or at least wax poetic (Guv'na's raison d'etre), till then.. enjoy Naknek Chrome! Narration courtesy of Mikey.

Sometimes the Dog bites your Behind!

I only write this to document the conditions of BC on 5-5-11. The feelings are still to close to the surface, for me to speak or write about the events of that day.

Every Dog has it's day

It seemed to happen so often I can't now exactly remember the details, but the memory is basic. I'm at work, toiling away, in another meeting, grinding out an existence. The phone rings, and it's Pablo and the Mule. They are drunk with a cocktail of exhaustion, satiation and red bull. The signal is broken up because they are just now on the saddle above brown sugar, overlooking the Reservoir.... "Greatest..... huge browns..... man o man.... super slow motion..... monster head rising...... just tore down to the backing..... best day.... huge browns.... best day..... man o man..... just sucked in the fly..... saw this behemoth... behind rock....." Eventually the signal would drop and I'd feign throwing my phone through a window.

There is balance in the universe as Pablo and the Rook (need to change his nick to "facilitating SOB") got blanked for 6 hours on BC and two days later, on a lark really, I head out to JFork for a quick jaunt and bust chops. You know it's good when your royal wulf's ears are hanging off his butt from the mauling.

I won't rub it in, cause heaven knows I've spent many hours with tired legs stumbling aimlessly over rocks and aching shoulder with nothing to show, and I'll have another of those soon enough, but for now, the sun is shining on this dogs elk hair behind!

Best Fish, Worst Story

The story, our lives are about the stories. I wish this trout had a better story, it deserves a better story. It deserve a brutal slog through a torrential downpour, a long wait to spot it, an even longer cast and perfect swing to elicit the take and then the epic battle. What it got was a guide (yah, I know, how can there be a story with a guide on the unguided- my head is hanging in shame) motoring Steve and I over the "glory hole" with 8" spoons trolling 20 yards behind the boat. No sooner had we fixed our lines I started to tell about the last time I trolled for Stripers on Smith Mountain lake with a foul mouthed, idiot of a guide (there it is again) in a bitter wind for 8 hours....as soon I said, "I hate trolling" the rod in my hand jolted like I'd snagged a tree and instantaneously this rainbow began an acrobatic display fit for the cirque du soleil. It was incredible, and I admit I gave Steve STRICT instruction that his filming must not show the bait casting rod in my hands or the guide at the helm. Of course those were impossible orders and in the one shot you can even hear him say, "your going to have to SENSOR that, I think I got the pole in it". That is hysterical, Steve- what a great sport.

Ok, well, I guess this biggest 'Bo of mine does have a story- just not the one I would have like, but the one I got. And such is life- at least my life.