Yep, BP has hired Goldman Sachs as a financial advisor. What’s the over/under on Goldman helping BP declare bankruptcy to get out from under their very obvious liabilities?
Fuckers
It’s been a long week, and I’m not sure where to start. Hell, I’m not even sure if I can properly convey an adequate sense of order to an insane week of fishing…
Maybe, if we were sitting in a dive bar somewhere and throwing back 24oz PBR’s, I could try to set a narrative about an awesome river system with ‘bows as big as your leg. With the broader range of emotive capability inherent in the spoken word, I might possibly get you to feel the fluttery, hyperventilating sensations that develop when a group of these large fish start busting smolt right in front of you on a sunny day. With the proper facial expressions and gesticulations, I might also be able to place you waist-deep in the flow, watching the birds working upstream, knowing that if you time it right, you just might have a shot at one of these fish.
After the second or third beer, I might find the particular word or phrase that would do justice to the strange, tunnel-vision feeling of swinging into grease so fishy that it practically glows. With any luck, I could probably describe the time-erasing sensation that you feel when you are going through a piece of big-fish water, knowing that each and every moment, all hell could break loose.
About beer number four, I could probably get something across about the wind, about my newfound love for the bug-removing wind, and my new respect for the cack-handed snap. I could probably set the stage for the two am stumble to the cabin door, fully clothed against the bugs, not quite ready for the sprint to the outhouse. By beer number four, I think I could have a pretty good shot at describing the zoned-out, goofy-ass mood that set in around day three, and the punch-drunk, rummy shamble through the holes on day five.
With beers five and six, I might take a stab at the spare beauty of the place. This might not go over well, but I would probably, with the appropriate hand motions, show the bizarre path taken by the sun on its daily joyride around the horizon. I could probably get you to appreciate the zen simplicity that is tundra, bonsai for giants. We would probably rehash a bit about the wind, the bugs, and the huge fish, but that’s OK, they are an intrinsic part of the desolate, simple, and remote charm of the place.
After beer seven, it’s anybody’s guess. The conversation would start to deteriorate a bit, and in an odd sort of fashion, we might find ourselves at an impasse of sorts, an inability on the part of the speaker to properly manipulate the language in such a fashion as to convey cogent thought. Then we would be on the level we are now, the level of trying to thread an experience together that does not lend itself well to linear translation on the written page. Much like the old joke about dancing to architecture, the idea of typing about a trip like this is rather humorous because in the end, it comes down to a simple fact, a common phrase.
You just had to be there.
Damn, got to fishin’ and almost forgot about our friends. Yeah we know, it’s short notice, but what the hell, you can drop everything and show up anyway, right? Right. Hey kids, it’s Spey Nation the Third!
Saturday June 19th, 2010
Pineville Bridge Angler’s Access Site and Boat Launch on the Salmon River
Altmar, NY
8am- 4pm
Spey Nation is a grassroots organization dedicated to furthering the culture and techniques of spey fishing on Great Lakes tributaries, and they throw a great party, with free chow sponsored by The Oak Orchard Fly Shop.
Featuring presentations and demonstrations by:
Check out gear from:
Raffles will benefit the Fish Creek Atlantic Salmon Club. They do good works. Also Shaq will be wrestling a drunken Scotsman, which should be quick because Shaq’s lost a bunch of weight and is weak as a kitten.
A Story That’s Funny To Everybody But Shaq
Shaq’s our pal and he runs this show. An outdoor writer from the Syracuse paper called Shaq to do a story on Spey Nation and wanted a demo, but Shaq was busy fighting crime or something and couldn’t make it. Shaq’s pal Zach (can’t make this shit up) filled in, and stuck a 28-inch Atlantic in the process. Nice! If you come, this probably won’t happen to you. Or to Shaq.
Directions:
Go to the intersection of Rts. 48 and 13 just west of the village of Altmar NY, turn north, cross the bridge and tumble down the hill. Here’s the Directions page from the official site. Here’s a handy list of accomodations.
Watch the official page for news and other details.
BP Spills Coffee - watch more funny videos
What separates the pros from the amateurs:
Armstrong, sleeping with one eye open, camera at the ready and a breakfast beer within reach.
Every year, millions of sockeye salmon come back to the rivers of Bristol Bay to spawn and die. When the eggs deposited by last year’s adult finally hatch and the young sockeye alevins swim up out of the gravel, they swim into the relative comfort and safety of their large feeder lake. They will spend up to 3 years in this lake, ostensibly to eat the rich freshwater zooplankton and grow into healthy smolts, but I think there is another reason…
I think they are scared out of their little finny gourds by some of the trout that happen to be in the river between their cozy lake and the big blue sea.
In 3 days, I get to test that theory.
Starting June 8th at 12:01 am, I get 89 hours in the greasy flows of what is arguably the world’s greatest wild rainbow trout river, huckin’ everything from itty-bitty smolt imitations to 8-inch monstrosities that would scare the bejeezus out of lesser trout. 89 hours with a case of beer, a 12-pack of ramen, a boat, and no lodge curfew. 89 hours to get all up in the sock drawer of this river, sniffin’ the air and lickin’ rocks, trying to figure out what makes these beautiful fish tick.
I got a case of gear that would make a diva blush, more flies than a Mexican dump, a whole golf-bag fulla rods, an extra set of waders in case I pee myself in excitement, and a brand new box of baby wipes.
Game time, fellas. Pins and needles until Monday morning.
The PDX > ANC leg of the Annual North Pacific Tundra King Parade commences in five days for the legendary Week One debauchery, and we aim to be there again as the greeting committee with a box fulla craft fur tubes and a pocket fulla hope. As always, something magically spiritual about seeing the kids swim home all growed up and what not.
Early reports say the Kanektok runnoff’s crested three days ago, the gravel bars are re-appearing, KP’s been sent strict directions on how I like my damn bed turned down each night and the natives put the first king in the nets well over a week ago. Props to the set-up crews. Looks to be going off as planned, and without injury. This is assuming the Nailknot doesn’t show up in Anchorage again with a bottle of 120-proof Old Potrero and the need to get the Kid all stinky in an effort to make him to stop sexting his girl the whole gotdamn night. Jeffrey: Sexting’s just flat creepy when trying to poach four dudes into a tiny hotel room to save cash.
Hell yes. Time to start following the king season North again and thanking gjod BP doesn’t have any holdings in Kuskowim Bay.
Until BP hired Dick Cheney’s former PR hack as their new PR hack. If past experience tells us anything, it’s to expect the above presented with a serious expectation of acceptance.
I recently had the good fortune of chasing epic bones with Field and Stream, Angling Trade and FlyFish Journal editor, Kirk Deeter. You can tell a lot about a guy by spending a day fishing with him, and Kirk is the kind of guy I would choose to fish with anytime - easygoing, but ever vigilant and all business when it’s game time. 
Yet there was one thing about Kirk that left me wondering, and required followup - his choice of footwear for the flats. Far be it for me to shirk my journalistic duties, so I got in touch with Kirk to get to the bottom of this.
Q: As a well-connected industry professional, you could obviously pick up the phone and have any top-of-the-line flats boot on your desk in 24 hours. Yet you choose a pair of Chuck Taylors instead. ‘Splain, please.
KD: I had to wear special orthopedic shoes when I was a little kid…and now I think that most of the flats boots out there look almost exactly like those orthopedic shoes did. So I just won’t wear ‘em. For the record, I don’t wear a helmet when I fish either.
Q: Every flats boot I’ve ever seen seems to come in light colors. You went with black. Is that simply because black is the most fucking metal color of the spectrum? Have you noticed an increase in your hookup ratio?
KD: I like black Chucks because they seem to camouflage my feet in the clouds of silt I kick up as I wade the flats. Granted, the fish are usually freaked out by the clouds either way, so I can’t claim a hookup ratio advantage… but I take comfort in knowing that the fish never know WHOSE feet caused the clouds… follow? And yes, I believe fly fishing and heavy metal music (or punk music) go hand-in-hand, in that you either “feel it and get it” right away, or not. Some people equate fly fishing with bluegrass, which is total bullshit. Fly fishing is metal (or punk). Chucking spoons is disco.
Q: I asked our research department to do a little homework, and they found that you can get 5-6 pairs of Chucks for the price of one pair of famous-maker flats boots. Are the rest of us taking crazy pills here?
KD: Nah… to each his own. But… A) Chucks function better than most wading boots when you cast from the deck of a skiff, B) Chucks dry faster, and weigh less in checked luggage, C) You get the same sole
protection from coral for a fraction of the price, and D) You never know when you’re going to get back to the boat ramp and want to pick right up with a game of H-O-R-S-E or some heated one-on-one for guide tips.
Q: The sun and the heat can do weird things to a person in the tropics. Have you ever imagined while wading around that you are Joey Ramone in your Chucks and that the mangroves are thousands of your adoring fans? Have you ever thought of putting a whammy bar on your fly rod?
KD: I had an adoring fan once, but we got married. On the Ramones fantasy… yes, but it’s actually more of a “Dee Dee” thing. A bonefish reveals a glistening tail, and in my head, I hear the bass player shout out “1-2-3-4!” After that, it’s all bar chords and amplified feedback (which pretty much describes my casting style). If the song isn’t wrapped in about 2 minutes and 7 seconds… I know I fucked it up.
My fly rod is my “whammy bar.” What do you call yours?
For one of the best places on the planet to give your Chucks a workout, hit this.
A portrait of my Grandfather Merrill and Great Uncle Carol made from their induction photos. Carol was a forward observer in the 1st ID and lost both of his legs in Normandy. Merrill served as a Navy Signalman assigned to escort duty for convoys departing New Orleans, bound for the Pacific.
Have some, Mike Iaconelli.
More friggin’ Dog-honest soul than a dozen yuppie fly boutiques put together:
Be the first to name the shop and get a couple Buster stickers.
Time to whack-’em and stack-’em before they go stale, but you already know this, don’t you?
“Fly fishing is metal, baby.”
- Kirk Deeter, 5/16/10
More than just epic bones @ Andros South:
More images from Deneki FIBfest.
By now, most of you have heard about the proposed Pebble Mine in Bristol Bay. I won’t insult your intelligence by rehashing the gory details (as provided by The Pebble Partnership) of the preliminary project report, but I would like to take this opportunity to make a few points.
- In addition to the proposed Pebble project, there are roughly 3.6 million acres of BLM land slated to become the Bristol Bay Hard-Rock Mining District. 1 million of these acres were opened to claims in 2008, the rest is closed but “pending designation”.
- According to the EPA, the hard-rock mining industry is the single largest source of toxic releases in the US.
- As of 2008, 93% of large-footprint mines similar to the proposed Pebble Project had violated their environmental standards.
- Bristol bay produces 70% of Alaska’s sockeye, worth $130 million in ex-vessel prices alone last year.
- Entering its 126th year, the commercial fishing industry and its support infrastructure in Bristol Bay represents roughly 75% of local employment.
- Alaska is still the only MSC-certified sustainable sockeye salmon fishery in the world.
- No fewer than 30 major gold handlers have spoken out against the proposed Pebble Mine, vowing to never buy gold sourced from Bristol Bay.
This isn’t just Alaska’s problem. With the BLM maneuvering to open the Bristol Bay Hard-Rock Mining District, it is now OUR problem. Instead of just wringing our hands, shouting at the television, or giving up in resignation, may I suggest a few alternative strategies?
For starters, go to the Save Bristol Bay website and sign the petition for the continued closure of BLM lands to mining interests. Shoren and company were thoughtful enough to have 2 separate petitions, one for Alaskans and one for the rest of y’all.
You can also write your state representatives to express your displeasure with the situation, and let them know that the proposed Pebble project and the opening of BLM lands to Hard-Rock Mining represent dangerous precedents in a world of rapidly diminishing wilderness acreage and critical wildlife habitat.
Support a conservation organization directly involved in the fight. The Renewable Resources Coalition, Save Bristol Bay, and the Sportsman’s Alliance for Alaska come to mind. If your the type of fella that might want a little somethin’-somethin’ to show for your monetary contributions, there are some options here…
You can get a bitchin’ T-shirt or Hoodie with the “Over Our Dead Salmon” Troll brothers print from Sportsman’s Alliance. Hoodies are $35, T-shirts are $25…be sure to indicate your size and preference in the comments box.
If you enjoy the occasional beverage, protect your fine furniture from excessive beverage-container humidity with one of these No Pebble logo coasters, thoughtfully milled by the folks at Abel Automatics…yours for the low price of a $15 donation…type “Abel coaster” in the comments box.
If you would like to announce your Uppity Mountain Hippie-ness to the rest of the corporate world, you can snag one of these cool Fish Print Ties from March Brown (scroll down, and include BRISTOLBAY on the checkout screen). $50, with $25 going directly to the fight against the proposed Pebble Mine…Take your pick from Rainbow Trout, Grayling, King Salmon, Sockeye Salmon, and Pink Salmon. Personally, we like the Sockeye pattern.
In light of recent developments in the world of resource extraction, it’s time to stand up for the last great runs of Sockeye salmon left on earth, and one of the last undeveloped critical riparian habitats in North America.
They aren’t gonna do it for themselves.
Glista’s lab exploded and now there’s stuff all over the place. Anyone?
Suggestions: Mambo Chicken, Defenestrator, Electric Lycanthrope
