From the last SE Commercial roundup, published 7/22/11 -
“…Based on cumulative harvests through week 29 (July 16) department research staff have now estimated the first [SE AK] pink salmon harvest for the season at 53 million fish…”
Want a humpy? Pour a glass of water on the beach. Flush twice. Throw a stick for your dog, odds are he’ll come back with a startled pink salmon.
If you folks in WA are waiting impatiently for your “Bumper Crop” of 6 million humpies, longing for the chance to ponder your fly selection and cast for the elusive, acrobatic pink salmon, here is some advice:
Hop on an AlaskaAir flight. $430 gets you to KTN (or PSG, or JNU…), a few bucks gets you a cab to a fleabag $60/night hotel, and 10 bucks gets you enough deli food at the local grocery to get you through the day. Beer is moderately priced if you like Natty Ice and don’t mind drinking tall-boys from a paper bag.
As for the fish, well, they are all over.
Seriously. They are like vermin at this point. Rats with fins.
ANYWAYS, if angling for the formidable adversary that is the pink salmon is on your bucket list, there’s no better time than the present.
Get your Hump on, Fisha.
We don’t want to beg, but please – if you have $3400 just burning a hole in your pocket, and you’re the type of person that simply loves helping others make their dreams come true, then please make a check out to the “Buster Wants a Wish Foundation.” We’ll take it from there.
An artful and rare collaboration between “Texas” Tosh Brown and Pete “Never Sleeps” McDonald. Now available from Departure Publishing.
Every so often we like to bust out the search stats and see what kind of wacky Google antics are landing you freakies at our site. Recent favorites include “fly brigade shit,” “ridiculously complicated elevator,” and “forced to eat sweaty panties.” We love you guys.
The all-time top 20 since 2007 includes 3 that are all related to a goofy story that we linked to in our very first week of operation, about some boogan who spotted Bigfoot somewhere in Western Pennsylvania. Frankly, we just wanted some content up there when we went live, and hell, why not Bigfoot, right? Sprint right out of the gate!
So our search stats have pretty much always included “bigfoot sightings,” “bigfoot sightings in PA,” and “western PA bigfoot.” It’s something we’ve always enjoyed, looked forward to, hell even taken pride in. But lately, sadly, the frequency has fallen off a bit. Not entirely, but just enough to make us melancholy, which is bad news when we’re out of everything but gin, you know?
So this here post is a bit of an experiment to see if we can get those numbers back up. Hell maybe we’ll get a horde of cryptozoology geeks with this awesome totally real no really photo of the Western Pennsylvania Bigfoot RIDING THE GODDAM LOCH NESS MONSTER AND FLIPPIN YOU OFF!
HOLY CRAP GOOGLE! IT’S GODDAM PENNSYLVANIA BIGFOOT FISHING IN SOME GUY’S POND! IN PA!
SASQUATCH! GESUNDHEIT!
A picture from the end of a seventy rod portage after a three mile paddle in a sixteen foot canoe over a lake in the BWCA that is not shy of throwing whitecaps at you (the son of a bitch did, too). Every bit of what you imagined after reading that last sentence is true. It was a lot of work getting to this lake. Worth it, however.
Minnesota is built and managed for these fish. There are approximately four million of them for each person that resides in this state. So we go out and fish for them. If you have fished for steelhead then you know how a walleye fishes. Skittery, picky, gotta be there at the right time.
Roll a fillet in a beaten egg and then in smashed saltine crackers and pan fry it. Dip a bite in a blend of mayonaisse and minced kosher pickles and you’d do some work for them, too. A few fish on the stringer were hauled in by the DA (my wife). She’s four months into our third child.
Yours truly isn’t smiling for nothing.
Coolness courtesy of the Library of Congress collection, the Works Projects Administration, and Lithgow Osborne, Commissioner of the New York State Conservation Department, 1933-1938.
I’m looking forward to not hearing the phrase, “poor man’s bonefish.” Ever. Again.
I’m looking forward to this not being seen as just a short-lived, hipster trend.
I’m looking forward to someone actually giving me a legitimate definition of ‘trash fish.’
I’m looking forward to not hearing highly-biased opinions from people who’ve never tried it.
I’m looking forward to this fish finally getting the respect it deserves, on par with some of the toughest, and most worthy, game fish around.
But if none of that happens, and only a few weirdos continue to bother chasing these cool beasts, well shit, that’s just fine too.
Wherein the loud Americans once again get all wooty. First a word from the Hideous Jabbering Head of Izaak Walton with a nakkin on!
This is all the confidence that I can put on, concerning the merit of what is here offered to their consideration and censure; and if the last prove too severe, as I have a liberty, so I am resolved to use it, and neglect all sour censures. So eat chain, haters! Let’s blow some shit up!
The Presidents of the USA
“Whoever dares to look upon them as an irregular mob, will find himself much mistaken. They have men amongst them who know very well what they are about” -Brigadier Lord Hugh Percy after returning from Lexington Green, April 19th, 1775.
Know your rights.
Pile on, open fred, catch a fish, smoke a brisket, whatever. Happy 4th.
