The River Tay, Scotland, Aug 21 2010
After last night’s gig up in the highlands one of the staff at the joint we were staying got a little too deep into the scotch resulting in, so we heard, an offense to some ancient clan, the muttering of disagreeable oaths and inevitably, a bit of a dust up. The Royal Order of thee Hee-lund Coppers were summoned, tears of regret were spilled and some punter was hauled off to the clink. Amidst all that donnybrook sleep was tough to come by so I took a wee doze on the drive down to Crail, on the SE coast. To get to Crail, you gotta drive right through St. Andrew’s, which is where a lot of serious golf is performed. You can tell it’s a golf town by the incredible numbers of “slacks” people wear in combo with those those tasteful shirts golfers are so fond of. St. Andrew’s is “quaint” and “charming” and, just to make sure one is aware that it is also “historic” and “Scottish”, they like to spell the word golf “gowf”. Yeah, that’s fooking hilarious, Alisdair!
I woke up about halfway to the gig, outside the town of Pitlochry, just as we were crossing over a big, fishy looking river. Generally there are no signs in Scotland telling you where the fuck you are, where the fuck you are going or how long it’s gonna take you to get there, but for some reason there was a sign and that sign said, “Hey, Fuck You Thee, Here’s The River Tay And You Ain’t Fishing It.” Shit.
To make an already shitty situation even shittier, just as we were crossing the bridge there was a dude stepping into the drink with a spey rod locked and loaded. We, of course, drove right on by. God. Fucking. Dammit. As they are fond of saying over here, I was gutted.
I bribed our driver with a cold, half-eaten chunk of Steak and Ale pie that I had been saving for my lunch and we were able to pull over about 20 minutes later. We pulled into a sorta high-end subdivision and I jumped out of the car, ran down a dog-shitty path, found the river and took a pic.  If, like me, you’ve never fished the Tay before, you might be a bit surprised to find that it’s one huge fucking river. The bit I saw — which I now believe was pretty cost to the Firth (estuary) of Tay — really didn’t have any discernible features other than it’s bigness, and to tell ya the truth, it looked a lot better up by the bridge where the dude with the spey was about to battle the constant — and I mean constant — 40 mph winds.
I got a magazine-thing called “Fish in Scotland” from the Scottish tourist board the other day. The word on the Tay is that, “It is one of the best Salmon rivers in the United Kingdom, and therefore the world.” I had a chuckle and thought, “yeah… sure” But who the fuck knows. It didn’t believe it because I am incredibly bitter and to accept that a river I crossed without fishing may, indeed, be one of the finest salmon rivers in the world is simply too close to self-flagellation. I am in enough pain.
In all honesty, the Tay really could be one of the finest rivers in the world. It could totally suck. Don’t ask me. I didn’t fish it the goddam thing.
We drove away and after a while we passed over the River Earn. I only got a quick glace and really have nothing to report about this sweet little river for alas,  there are only so many rivers that I can’t fish in a day.

The Fucking Spey, Scotland, Aug. 20, 2010

Driving up from last night’s gig in Glasgow up to Kinloss (it’s up in the Scottish Hee-linds near Elgin) I didn’t fish the Spey. Too bad, because from the motorway, at least, it’s a swell looking river with soft green banks, a gentle gurgling gait and bits of ruined castle strewn all over its banks.

To make not fishing the Spey all the more painful,  the A95 travels along the river offering infuriating peeks every coupla miles — like when you’re driving in Montana along I-90 and are forced to gaze upon the Clark Fork every 45 seconds. My traveling companions, of course, do not give a fuck that the Spey is one of the “Big Four” Scottish fly fishing rivers. They do not care that the Spey is home to its own goddam style of fishing. They do not care that there is even a style of fishing rod called a (goddam) spey rod. I attempt to impress upon them the — you know — gravity of the situation:
“Ya know how regular fly rods are like 9 feet long?”
Silence.
“Well Spey rods are super massive, maybe like up to 16 or 17 fucking feet long.”
Silence.
“And they shoot lasers and… other stuff.”
Nada.
It had been raining buckets since we’d left Glasgow and as the Spey gradually opened up into it’s Spey-like size and shape, the goddam sun came out,  exploding the dew on the grass and tossing a spray of diamonds over the surface of the famous river like some bullshit magazine story. I felt sick. We drove right on by.

We drove right on by a few distillareies (Cardhu, Dahlwhinnie) and we did not stop to even glance at the Fucking Spey. It was infuriating, it was frustrating and I consoled myself, as always, by thinking that given a day or two, my own gear and the right flies, I could really do some damage on the Fucking Spey and show these highland hillbillies what’s what.

I’ve cultivated the ability to be really goddam obnoxious in a very short time — it’s like my “nuclear option”. I threatened destruction and finally convinced Rod, the driver, to stop for all of 45 seconds while I snapped a perfectly annoying shot of a perfect bridge over a perfect bend stood sentry by a perfect little fishing shed on the Fucking Spey. Another UK river I didn’t fucking fish.

After G_Smolt’s thoroughly tasteless post advocating bead bouncing with a bamboo stick, we felt it was time to get back on track, appeal to our literate readers and pull this place out of the gutter.

But then, well, we got distracted.

Capr fishing explained:

Nominated for an Award from the Nature Conservancy (Fuck those assholes and their access policie$)

November 20, 2009 

Mr. Donald L. Beaver, Jr.Chief Executive OfficerSpring Ridge Club, LLC

Dear Mr. Beaver, 

Congratulations! Spring Ridge Club was selected by an independent panel of judges as a finalist in the Investing in Nature program in the Ecotourism category. 

Selecting award finalists was a difficult task for our blue-ribbon panel of judges. It is an honor of which to be proud. There was a robust field of nominees from across

 Sincerely, 

Teresa Howell Saxton

Donor Relations Manager

  And from the newsletter, Cathy Beck on a private Lake Erie trib.

 Epol fixed it though:

Merry Christmas.

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

Buster likes this story from Rogue Angel Loretta Rose Wylie.

“This is what the fuck happens when yew outfish yer dad on FATHERS DAY! And you win three dollars from yer daddy for playin’ buck buck buck.”

*this photo of the north fork of the trask river drainage in summer 2008 courtesy of the Cap’n.

Please note: This is a copy of an email i received from the Wild Salmon Center’s Bob Van Dyk recapping yesterday’s meeting in Salem. Many of us attended this meeting, taking a day off work in a tough economic climate and trading a day’s wages to stand together for what’s scientifically right in our State Forests. for that kind of commitment, i graciously thank each of you. To be clear, we weren’t asking for an end to timber harvest. All we wanted was a peer review of any policy changes. The vigil must be maintained if we want to pass on the magic of North Oregon coastal salmon, steelhead and trout fishing onto the next generations.

also, I know for most Buster readers this won’t make a lot of sense, but i wanted to put it out there for those of you who’ve been following the Board decision, as it relates directly to the watersheds—The Wilson, Trask, Kilchis, Miami and Nehalem—many of us hold dear.

among so many more things, i credit these watersheds and their anglers, in part, for forcing forward much-needed advancements and innovation in modern two-handed tackle design. that said, i’d sure be nice for a little more fly fishing industry support here. Yesterday, only one fishing company showed up. Big props to Zach and Chris from Idylwilde Flies.

Bob’s email:

The end of consensus decision making has clarified the strong timber bias on the Oregon Board of Forestry.

OPB Reporter Ethan Lindsay had it right at the April meeting, when he wrote that Split Votes At State Forestry Board Could Mean More Logging.

Yesterday, five of the six members present favored changing the current plan to put a much stronger emphasis on logging. The board also voted against any sort of outside scientific review before making the changes. 

Particularly disappointing was Cal Mukumoto, who last November gave strong support for an outside scientific review.  In yesterday’s meeting, Mukumoto said he was concerned that the State Forester’s recommendation lacked the scientific review that he and the board had requested last November, when ODF discovered they had been overcutting by 35% over the level sustainable under the current plan. After Mukumoto raised the issue of the scientific review yesterday, board member Peter Hayes made a formal motion to do the scientific review before increasing the amount of the forest open to clear cutting from 50% of the forest to 70% of the forest.  Mukumoto didn’t support Hayes, and likely Hayes ally Bill Hutchison had to miss the meeting.  So the board rolled over Hayes and moved on to approve the logging increases, with Mukumoto joining Blackwell and the other board members who only pay lip service to values other than logging.  It is increasingly clear that board members like mill-owner Phillippi and big timber-owner Giustina basically see this as a continuation of the fight over federal lands.  They seem angry that they lost on federal lands, so they are trying to make the state lands look more like the private lands, which is the official position of the Oregon Forest Industries Council.  Union woodworker Steve Wilson said he wanted more jobs.

Board member Hayes is turning out to be a real champion for thoughtful and long-range stewardship of natural resources.  If you know him or see him, thank him.

Beyond yesterday’s move for more logging, the board  decided to re-open the entire Greatest Permanent Value (GPV) rule, which guides state forest management — including the goals, required processes, etc.  With five of the seven votes solid for the timber industry, reopening GPV won’t be pretty.  The board set next April as the key date to have materials for this GPV rule change back to them, and they will discuss those changes this September.

The good news is that former Governor Kitzhaber wrote a strong letter to the board in support of scientific review and against the kind of proposal the Board affirmed yesterday.  It didn’t make any difference, but given the strong signs that Kitzhaber might run for Governor, things could change for the better come November of next year.

In addition, the terms of board members Giustina and Hutchison expire in less than a year, so there will be a chance to improve the board with their replacements.

In some ways, we are back to the 1980s, when a serious flap over timber domination of the board led to the current statutes on board membership and the norm of the board operating on consensus.  It was consensus that led to the current forest plan, with its mix of thinning and clear cuts.  With consensus gone, and a board chair who thinks the private forest practices act is a good model for state land, we’re right back to a majority-rule system without a balanced board membership.

Of course, much of the responsibility for the steady march toward timber primacy on the board lies at Governor Kulongoski’s feet.  He didn’t oppose a ridiculous bill that was used to threaten the board this session.  He left the board without a chair for a year.  He refused to even meet with a dozen conservation groups who wrote him to request a meeting to discuss forest policy.  He hasn’t even had a staffer who covers state forests.  His natural resource advisor, Mike Carrier, supported the end of consensus.  Kulongoski isn’t interested, doesn’t care, and has basically let timber have its way on the board.  Kulongoski is leaving behind a mess on this one.

Thanks to all who showed up yesterday — there were over 60 folks for fish, hiking, biking, biodiversity, and just plain balance.  Lots of clapping for terrific testimony.  A dozen drift boats.  Signs.  Banners.  Big blown-up pictures. A lunch BBQ.  Fishing guide Jeff Hickman really came through.  So in some ways it was the best board meeting I have been to in 10 years.  There was so much great testimony and positive energy!  Lots of new people, too. Sadly, the outcome seemed pre-ordained, despite literally dozens of people speaking and thousands of emails of support for keeping a balanced approach.

But I’m confident we are on the right side of history on this thing.  The big three counties of Multnomah, Washington, and Clackamas are now 1.6 million people.  Tillamook County is 25,000 people.  For the last 30 years, Tillamook County has grown by 142 people a year on average.  The big three counties have grown by 20,000 a year.  It is time for this sleeping giant that favors a reasonable balance to awaken.  We can do it, folks.  Blackwell and his old-school timber allies are leading a parade with their eyes fixed on a rear-view mirror.  Their clumsy timber grab for the rich and diverse public resources in the Tillamook is at odds with the long-term public interest.

I’ll get a more complete account up on my webpage soon.   www.thetillamook.net

Bob Van Dyk

It’s true that there is no accounting for taste, but this thing looks like an alley cat puked on a Phish t-shirt, tofu burrito stains and all. Will there be a “Rainbow Rod” to go with it?

Even worse, by portraying it as a “limited edition” version, they’re trying to create a fetishistic lust for something that looks more like a production mistake they didn’t catch until they’d accidentally cranked out 175 of them:

It’s all yours, Moonbeam.

*Another wholly unbiased Buster gear review, free of charge. And corporate fly fishing still sucks.

Gaper “resting” in Texas at Fly Fish Chick’s pad.

e-rock worked the access and when access is worked, one tends to tag along

caught a couple off the dock…

it was a pretty good day…

those fish, they were pretty alright. an old lady lives on that lake, she was born in the house on the north bank. there’s a 1951 Plymouth something or other in her front yard. that car ain’t seen the road for a decade…

So we have this “friend”…..and by “friend” we mean someone who happily performs the equivalent of ramming white hot steel needles into our collective retinas  by occasionally sending pictures like these, in the dead of winter, from that  place they call N Zed. Nasty hobbitses. We hates him. And we’re trying to figure out how the hell to get over there and join him.

The latest:

Aw, who are we kidding? Glad someone’s gettin’ some. Bastard.