Good thing it wasn’t a 700′ earthen dam holding back a few cubic miles of tailings at the headwaters of a massive sockeye system…but that would never happen, right?
From the fertile, warped mind of Ketchikan’s own Ray Troll.
The long Alaskan winters leave plenty of time for folks to pick up immoral habits…drinkin’, cussin’, foolin’ Around, cooking West African cuisine, and learning to play the fiddle are but a few of the “darkest season” vices floating around our little coastal village as of late.
To these, we can add one more scourge – Traditional Fly Tying.
The Gonger has been holed up in his bunker near Neil Creek for quite awhile, making the neighbors wonder, “What could he POSSIBLY be doing in there?”
Wonder no more.
“Thread” - An impressive body of work at the Juneau-Douglas City Museum until Feb 23rd.
Walleye; The least sporty gamefish in North America, stunted and overpopulated in Lake Roosevelt and the Upper Columbia, usurper of native salmonids. Take a moment to protect native redbands in the Upper Columbia by commenting on WDFW’s Rule Proposal #15 to raise or eliminate the limit on walleye.
The right way to bring in the new year is with a traditional meal of carp either poached, braised, boiled, broiled, grilled, smoked, fried or fricasseed.
Located in the exact geographical center of the state amongst brown trout stillwaters, bass ponds and hectares of carp flats this vending machine probably has whatever it is that you forgot to toss into the gear bag when you left the house three hours ago.
Crawbuggery carpy goodness.
DO NOT EVER go to Rocky Ford without yer scuds! Better yet dont go to Rocky Ford.
From a Drakemag.com fly swap to a good idea to a worthy cause to this remarkable item for you to bid on to benefit Casting for Recovery.
And just in case that’s not enough to esplode yr brains, Robert Meiser will custom-build you a 13′ 6″ Highlander Classic S2H13068C-4 spey rod to your design specs.
Uncle Joey the Fixer reckons this package at over 6 grand, so gwan over here and bid often. Because screw cancer.
Matt gets his first steelhead. Matt is rather a bit pleased.
Epic photo by Buster’s pal Robin Hill at Brookside Hillbilly
Epic MAT! by Matt
The takeout was a dirt ramp. We had permission but I’m not sure why. Up above there was a collection of single-wides, derelict RV’s, rusted farm implements, and a Glastron ski boat on blocks.
When there came a godawful squealing we thought the winch on the trailer had seized up. We stopped cranking and listened and the sound was coming from up the hill. Just then a man came down the ramp with wild hair and bib overalls and half of his uppers.
“How’d y’all do?”
“Bass or catfish?”
“White’uns or them regulars?”
He tugged at his asscrack and pondered that and then he went on about he and his boy and a mess of yella cats they’d caught awhile back. When the squealing started again we turned and looked up the hill, and then back at him.
“What’s all that racket?”
“Yeah. We got up on a hog.”
Captain DirtBag with a fine specimen, taken on a hitched hairwing in a spring creek somewhere near Bozeangeles, MT.