A new investor analysis to be released this Thursday, October 29th, details the legal, political, financial, engineering and reputational risks that Anglo American plc faces in developing the Pebble Mine Project in the headwaters of Bristol Bay in southwest Alaska.
 
Anglo American is cutting its capital expenditures this year by 50 percent to relieve pressure on its balance sheet. Meanwhile, company officials still face mounting and potentially costly obstacles with the Pebble Project – all of which should give investors pause.  London-based Anglo American has a joint 50-50 venture with British Columbia-based Northern Dynasty Minerals Ltd. – the Pebble Limited Partnership – to pursue the Pebble Mine Project.

More at Moldy Chum

A while back we at the handsomest interweb piscatorial flirting site in the way milky galaxy urged you good folks to check out a petition supporting no-kill regs on the legendary North Umpqua’s wild winter steelhead and, like a Rainier Tall you found in the back of your fridge behind some old carton of milk and thought Hotdamn, the legions of you who signed it get a clear and pure, 16 oz. fistful of surprise.

As of today, the Stansnugget over at the very badass Oregon Fly Fishing blog reports the ODFW has proposed the development of a coastal wild winter steelhead conservation plan in late 2010 instead of a knee-jerk kill season opening. Potentially worse would have been mitigating against a kill season by introducing hatchery winter steelhead into the North Umpqua, where the last remaining undiluted wild winter steelhead genetics in the Umpqua system find safehaven and sweet, sweet gravel.

Kudos to Stansberry (and a lot of others whose names I do not know) for keeping the fires lit as well as SirMister Jim Van Loan for asking the young punk for some help with this newfangled Interweb communication fandango. Badass to see young(er) guys and, ahem, distinguished gentlemen working together for the continued advocacy of our wild, native Northwest jewels. Thanks also to ex-ODFW bio Jay Nicholas for his thoughtful responses to Stansberry’s excellent interview on the subject, which the Buster considers a must read.

We remain cautiously suspect of this future conservation plan, but we’ll be shotgunning that Rainer in celebration of temporary victory. Huzzah!

Money quote by pro-dam state representative: “We don’t need any more water in the ocean – it’s full.”

No really; apparently the attention that the AMFF is getting from the Cheney’s appearance is causing some poor staffer to weep hot tears on her pillow:

Taking a moment to rant/whine/whatever. Please feel absolutely free to skip this, and if you do happen to read it know that no one should feel any obligation to reply–I just really need to vent.Because the fundraiser where Cheney is a guest is less than a month away, it’s once again getting notice. Which means we’re once again seeing stuff like this and this. Not to mention the lovely emails and letters.I’m just so… tired of it, not to mention beyond frustrated. I’m tired of being called names, of the insults, of folks not even attempting to get the whole story or see the other side, and of not being able to respond. I’m tired of people who’ve never taken notice of us before–if they even knew the museum existed–suddenly giving us tons of grief. I’m tired of all this righteous indignation from those who have no idea that we’ve had to lay off friends and still sometimes struggle to cover payroll. I’m just so fucking tired of all of it, and there’s absolutely nothing I can do about any of it.Okay, that’s it. Back to your regularly scheduled programming. And thanks for giving me a safe place to talk.

I got news for you- you aid and abet those that try to destroy habitat, not to mention running roughshod over the Constitution for 8 years, you deserve some grief, and some angry phone calls, black faxes and letters. Other enablers of despots got it much worse.

Burning Pram is this weekend and sure, there are plenty of videos out there in the tubeosphere showing burning pram things, but for some reason, this video really captures the outright glorious revelry stupidity of the greatest nite in flyfishing…

I hadn’t seen KB in quite sometime. He’s a college buddy of mine and one of the nicest fellas you’ll ever meet. I once sold him my parent’s old living room couch for a 12 pack of Coors Leaded. I think he slept on it for 6 months till he got motivated enough and bought a bed. I heard around the middle of June that KB had testicular cancer and was starting chemo. I wasted no time and called his cell. We traded voicemails for a day and then contact was made. I took about a minute and I asked him to fish. “Well, Scott, I’m going to be doing chemo for awhile. I don’t know when I’ll be able to fish, but I think about fishing everytime I’m laid up at the hospital. It’s something I plan on doing a lot of when I beat this disease.” I told him we’d go as soon as felt up to it. A plan was made to go on a late August Saturday between chemo cycles.  

 Alabama summers are brutal, but that day was the first since the late Spring/early Summer since we had temps in the 80′s with tolerable humidity. It was one of those days were it’s just a honor to be outside. I sat in the middle of the boat most of that morning with a shit-eating grin on my face. I was watching two of my best friends catch big bass after big bass and I didn’t want to be anywhere else. We fished till about lunch when KB let us know he was gassed and ready to head back. I could tell it pissed him off that this disease was forcing us to end our time on the water that day. He didn’t say much on the ride home. I dropped him off at the house and he made a beeline for the bed.

I’m happy to report that KB recently finished up chemo, but still has quite a fight on his hands. I know he’ll pull through. He’s got a lot to live for with a wonderful wife and two kids under 4 years old. And plenty of future fishing trips. We’re already talking about Montana/Wyoming/Idaho next Summer. I cannot wait. Kick that ass, KB. Kick that ass.

If you’re of the sentiment, as John Buchan was, that fishing is “a perpetual series of occasions for hope,” I’d highly recommend trying to finding birds out here:

You will walk farther than you think, and look back to see that you’ve put precious little landscape between you and where you started. You’ll find yourself putting up the same bird repeatedly as you make your way across the field, always flushing just out of range, or, not coincidentally, taking wing just as you’re distracted by a bull moose the size of a small mastodon on the far ridge. You’ll invariably find yourself making your way back to the truck against the wind, no matter which direction it was blowing when you started; the dense grass grabbing at your boots and slowing your progress. I can only compare it to wading upstream against a stiff current. For miles.

You’ll lose your dog and curse him with a level of creativity you never knew you possessed, only to crest a rise and find him locked down on a covey, doing exactly what he should be with exemplary style, and you’ll turn the stream of invective deservedly on yourself. After picking up one downed bird and stuffing it in your vest as the others continue over the horizon, you’ll offer part of your meatloaf sandwich and it dawns on you that he will never, ever hold any of your shortcomings against you; that he will continue tolerating hunting with you until you undoubtedly tire before he does.

This may indeed be another one of those pursuits that is an endless series of occasions for hope. But then again, it was that wry wit Ben Franklin that said, “He that lives on hope will die fasting.” So no matter how boundless your optimism may be, don’t bother venturing into this country, in pursuit of sharptails, without one of these:

And by all means, trust him.

Friend of Buster Dillis McQuiver showed off his filthy dirtball nature by sticking this rainbow in not one, but two different holes at the same time. That’s right look closely, she’s got a worm in her ass and a hare’s ear in her maw. No one has ever called Dillis (or anyone else associated with Buster) a purist but double penetrating a trout may bring us to a whole new level. For the record, I was there and he did not insert either hook after landing the fish, she came to hand double stuffed.

She’s a dirty little slut

From the recent invite sent out by the American Museum of Fly Fishing:

Angler’s All Presentation
November 12

Grand Hyatt

Washington, DC

Please join the AMFF on Thursday, November 12, 2009, for our Anglers
All Presentation in Washington, DC. The evening will also include an
address by former Vice President Dick Cheney. Festivities begin at the
Hilton in Washington, DC, at 6 p.m., and will include appetizers,
wine, and dinner.

A seat in the back row will run you $500. Seating within firing range will cost up to $10,000 and require an apology after the fact. That’s not a joke. Well, maybe the apology part.

To make your reservation now, or to let the AMFF know how excited you are (not) about their choice of speaker, go to the American Museum of Fly Fishing website (sorry, we won’t link them).

Douchebags…

Ann’s Emerald – fly and photo by Glista

One of the typists at the Caddis Fly blog has scored himself a bartender hull. 

“Now, I’m not kidding myself. There is quite a bit of work left to do but structurally, the problems are minimal. I need to replace all of the bottom portions of the frames. Easy and inexpensive. I have to fix the motorwell . . . there’s more but frankly, the boat is excellent for the price. Not only that but it is in the perfect state of completion. The heavy lifting is done but enough is left to finish her exactly like I want her.

Bartenders are excellent rough water boats, developed in Oregon by George Calkins with a reputation for crossing nasty bars and getting you home safely. They were used in Oregon and Washington for many years by the Coast Guard for search and rescue vessels. They are still used as rescue boats by Australia’s surf patrols.”