Life in UnEmploymentia

Well ya it is late, do you really care? In a few hours I will be chasing steel. What are you doing...watching football?

Over the last few months life has change here in Stonefland! Many a reality realized; happiness from within, life goes on, good friends & brew lives in tomorrow. The situation here at the Chronicle allows for pondering only things that effect survival. What will tomorrow bring?

Only what you bring...

Tomorrow 38 degrees of winter chill with frost on the windshield. The Steelhead mobile scrapped clear by loyalty of years of One Love...the pursuit of that which is not seen but understood. i.e. winter brings an ancient force of nature that forces swimming though impossible odds to enjoy the freedom god intended from the beginning. Upstream.

Upstream is the way of life in UnEmploymentia, life continues with current pushing downstream, broken into seams, pockets, and lines leading to dreams come true. Good morning sunshine...

Tight Lines

Long May You Run

Saw the river in a new way today.First float in a jet. Fun, but couldn't help but thinking the drifters were having more fun. The Spring Chinook run very healthy this year by all accounts. This also means that the Stealhead will follow. Hopefully.

A surprise to see the river milky but then remembered that Gold Ray Dam is on it's way out. Making the Rogue much like the ways of old. Funny how the economics have shifted here in the west. I first, encounted this in the Big Sky. Old timers sit in bars pineing of the days of old and how that was the life. Meanwhile, outside boats floated, cars stopped, families and friends spent money.

Currently, the Rogue is being set free and long may you run. From Gold Beach up to the lake will be 157 mile of free river. How times change.

The Rogue is only one example. Klamath, Elwah, Clarkfork, etc. Makes you wonder if the Snake could be next! Only time will tell. Time flows

Montana Dreamin

As part of my fall pox recovery, fish gods, have prescribed a trip to Montana. Part of this process is preparation or more precisely anticipation. When today dawned cool and overcast it only deepened the desire to cure the fall pox dilemma and the trip anticipation.

This morning the vise is burning hot with temptation. Hooks-ready, materials-check, time-yep coffee-hot, and beer-cold. Its going to be a tying marathon, so preparation is the key. Well getting to work. Thinking back of falls past, visions of many fine days of various mayflies dancing and fish rising in slack and shallow water fill the head.

Today the pattern tying will concentrate on sparse lightly dressed cripples and parachutes to match the fall hatch. In order to cover the vast options, small-(BWO), med-(PH), and large-(GD) will be the focus.

Dries-check:

It may be hard to believe, but it is a little hard to concentrate on the dry fly action sure to come in Montana. Since fall has seemed to arrive Steal is calling too. What to do, it is a good time to be a fly addict.

Just checking the box and it is a little sad, so my days will be filled with a lot of coffee, numb butt, and preparations. Soon after returning from the September trip to the Big Sky Country life will be consumed by chasing big heads.

Options-got em:

Thanks to the great NW my addictions can be kept in check. Best micro's, trout, stealhead, whatever. Never will leave-ashes to the river when gone.

Gotta go now, fall pox outbreak, need to medicate!

Fall Pox

here i sit in walla walla waiting to cure the fall pox. visions of trico's, mahoganies, and hecubas dance in my head. i must get to montana ASAP to cure the visions in my head.

the anticipation almost makes my head hurt or maybe that is the coffee headache? the only thing that leads me to believe its the pox is that i have had my coffee. within the next few weeks a plan is hatched to head northeast to the bitterroot in attempt to cure the pox for a short time. anyone who has suffered from this disorder knows that there is no known cure, you can only keep it in check by medicating on a regular basis.

during times of inflammation the itching is slowed only by the vise, the plan and then the execution of the trip. now that montana is no longer home the only way to control fall pox is to visit the river doctors. the spirits in the water, sky and bottle of the local brew slowly washes away the pain of fall pox.

low clear water, fall hatches all hunters chasing elk the river is yours and yours alone. man the pox are inflamed. rainbows rising in the shallows to may's is does not get any better then that.

if you have not seen this i can only explain it this way. you know the hunters chasing elk...fall pox make the fall angler hunt tails. meaning that the rise you see tells you where to to cast. only hunting the big tails. long drifts, patients and slow hook sets are prescribed.

fall colors, chilly mornings...wow heading to the vise now blue moon in hand with visions in the head anticipating the pox to be cured ASAP.

Tiger Canyon Saturday

It is the first day with summer in the air following weeks of rain. The valley is bathed in green. Wheat heads super-sized and waist high. Creeks running high of run-off in the Blue Mountains of Eastern Washington and Oregon. The rain providing an extra boost of growth. From the valley the mountains have long been green and tempting for sometime now. Today is the day it is decided to take a day of exploring up Tiger Canyon.

A long time friend joins along with his wife. Heading up the road and crossing over to gravel at the Washington/Oregon border we began to climb. Soon we hang the left across Mill Creek and enter the canyon. It is decide after a short radio conversation with Dave that we should make an attempt to make Skyline Drive, a ridge top road, from end to end. This seems fine.

Thanks to the rain the Basalt outcroppings are grown emerald moss, dripping pure seep water, and displaying vivid wildflowers. My thought began to wonder and some sense of sadness creeps in as thoughts wonder over recent life experiences. Nonetheless the sun is finally showing itself and I began to appreciate the day. Ah the therapy of mountains!

The higher the two trucks push the clearer the sky. Soon the saddle is reached and a sharp left takes us higher still. It begins to cool and I realize that it has been a while since venturing into the mountains. After a quick survey to the inside cab of the truck I find a jacket. OK a little more prepared then assumed. Soon the roadside snow begins to appear and the vegetation is still in early spring. Upon reaching an additional saddle the road heads the the north side of the mountain and shade. the snow begins to creep into the road and finally an excuse for 4wd. Not necessary yet, but what the hell lets bust some snow. Obviously the ridge is not in the cards today. After a quick turn around we find the large parking area next to a recent timber sale.

Dave knows a short hike up the peak to a view point that looks into Mill Creek Watershed. After a short tailgate snack on with the hiking boots we head off up the logging road soon hiking in old spring snow. Diverting to the right we make for dry land and walk through old forest with downed trees. Emerging out of the timber we enter a high park carpeted with wild flower of violet, yellow and white. A stunning discovery. Reaching the top fetching out the field glasses to scan the opposing canyon sides for elk, bear, etc. finding nothing the conversation continues. Conversations seems to be the point of the day so far. Not complaining. Many subjects are broached today, at this time, the truth of any religion is debated. As well as, the existence of any higher power is questioned. I do not believe in fear.

Turning and heading for the trucks we find that the clear cut makes for easy hiking, but is exceptionally ugly. Arriving at the chariot we amble down the road to the saddle where additional roads head south deeper into the mountains. At this point it becomes necessary to use 4wd. Yeah. It is slow going but there are numerous viewpoints and who is in a hurry. Need you be reminded it is Tiger Canyon on Saturday. At the head waters of the North Fork of the Walla Walla and addition hike to find mushroom is embarked upon. This is fruitless, except the exercise. Fine "lets see where the road goes."

Being cautious after several journeys across drifted roads. Following a attempted fishtail off the steep side of the mountain. A sixteen point turn on the narrow road has us heading back towards the saddle. Back at the main road and a short distance down the second road heads off left. Going left is always worth it. This road even more narrow is lower and not as snowing. Showing promise we reach yet another view point. This one into the vast expanse of the North Fork drainage. In the near future a mountain bike ride will be taken along the North Fork River down the mountain to Power Line Road. That is a different story.

"The last time on this road the gate was closed" Turning back we head towards the saddle the fourth time. Still not done with our hiking for the day we head further down to a small spring flowing draw to find Lady Slippers a member of the orchard family. Finding some a cell phone snaps a picture and across the water we hop and side hill back the road.

Further on we come to the "Ridge Walk" a favorite of Dave and his deceased father. An easy hike to the rock pile we stop for more conversation. Peering into the off limits watershed of Mill Creek the discussion turns to wildness and why the attraction? Soon the distinctive white asses of elk are seen moving in the open terrain across this particular canyon. Scrambling for the field glasses and realizing that they were left at the truck along with spotting scope. Damn. Not as prepared as assumed.

How soon you forget how the travel into the woods? Why? Anyway, soon the eyes get tired of stain try to follow the elk. Hiking out the conversation focuses on Dave's happiness seeing his wife make a slow recovery from brain damage. He is so happy because today she remembers how to use the two-way. Dave is all smiles. Back in the convoy a sudden stop reveals an additional trail straight up to the rock pile on "Ridge Walk." Still not hurried the only thing packed are field glasses and scope for closer inspection of the elk opposite spotted earlier. Amazing how much ground the four have covered in the few minutes it takes to find them the second time.

Descending brake light reveal a lone cow elk dead ahead this time spotted by the damaged mind, another reason for smiles. In short order out pops the camera and a few quick snaps documents the chance meeting. As quick as the camera snaps a still the elk decides to disappear. Being so close you can easily see the large muscle snap as she hustles straight up the canyon and over the top. Gone.

Yet again we stop at a overlook into the untouched watershed. After a quick scan of the opposite side a good heard of elk over a mile away. After surveying the open ground the elk claim it becomes apparent that the yellow signs, highlighted by the setting sun, warning of impending doom if you so choose to venture into the watershed out number the elk. Sacred ground.

Again giving way to gravity, the day seems over. Switch backing the final time before getting back to the creek we pass another onlooker glassing the mixed terrain of open parks and heavily timbered draws the typifies the Blues. Traveling somewhat quick for the mountain road barely noticed is the brown spot of interest. Quickly realizing the spot if interest is moving finally momentum is stopped. Grabbing the scope the cinnamon bear is found along with her two tiny offspring. Playing with each other like the films on Discovery Channel a realizing of reality sinks in. Wow. It is not long before the young family recedes to the forest. Thinking the show is over, the young couple that was watching prior to our arrival heads down for a nice dinner, maybe a coffee or a late movie at the cinema.

Scanning the broken canyon side with eye only another bear is seen moving in the direction of the very same trees the young family is hold up in. This could be interesting! Males and young mother bears do not mix. A short time after disappearing into the ponderosa the second bear makes a hasty retreat. Following the bear in the scope across the mountainside the bear makes a stop directly under a large mature ponderosa pine. Thoughts begin to ask "wouldn't that be cool if he climbed that tree." Nope, a quick look up the tree and purposed movement away from the young family in the trees. Seconds later nearly falling out of the tree two young cubs fall in line. Not a male, but another young mother with twins. Lucky.

Still stunned by what was witness the descent to town continues. Show over, reaching the outskirts of town life begins to return to normal. Soon thoughts are wondering back up the mountain. A higher power, not sure, but faith is built in something today. A so called once in a blue moon experience. More accurately a one in life.

Later, The Green Lantern poor of choice in Blue Moon with a slice of orange. What a Saturday in Tiger Canyon. Tomorrow?

Fly Life

There is always a struggle raging in me. At heart a fly caster, yet fearing the unknown, resisting a total commitment to the fly life. Feeling forced to work, now unemployed the pull is only greater. Now in the Northwest nothing hampers the lust I feel to commit to fishing and guiding as a lifestyle.

Two problems with this complex issue center around security and freedom. How does someone reach security? Does a steady job mean security? Is security really that important? Is security something to attain or just something to decide? Well, that is a lot to absorb, trust me I know.

This is just a glimpse into what my days consist of. One day I am ready commit the the lifestyle. Others I am commit to my professional goals. How is one free? Is it freedom though security or security through freedom? Is freedom chosen or attained? Or both?

Let that sink in a while. Putting thoughts into words only begs more question, but more on that later. Now answers must come, but more on that later, as well!

Stillwater Trout

Well, for the Chronicle this is a new adventure. Previously I was truly introduced to fly fishing one day when a group of my friends took me to a group of lakes know as Big 4. Actually a lot of what was learned that day is still with me today. After which my fly fishing adventures took me away to such exotic locations as So-Cal, Wyoming, Montana, Nor-Cal, etc. Since moving back to the old college day home town new options have opened up to me never before known.

One of which is stillwater. It must be confessed at first a little bit of judgment was leveled upon this kick boat mafia members, but last week the toes were dipped so to speak. Somewhat unnerving to take that first shove backwards into the deep blue and see the bottom quickly disappear beneath. Now of all the adventures to date the stealhead has gotten under the skin, but stillwater is itching its own itch.

A lake presents all sorts of new problems to a dry fly addict such as me. It is fun, lately I have been working my vice red hot with new patterns never before seen. An uncommon advantage has help. All my local fishing buddies from the college days have not left and in order to scratch the fishing itch an extreme amount of leg work has been put in and some real time tested and proven patterns are at my finger tips.

What patterns you ask well, in the world of stillwater the patterns are of a holy grail the likes of stealheaders, and more so than those secrets of the dry fly fishermen.

So trip two is fast approaching and the location is not yet determined, but the targets will be either big lahontan cutthroat, a native to Nevada/California, but now planted here in Eastern Washington or triploid rainbows.

My fly box needs some more attention. Be back soon.

Fly Fishing Film Tour

Well last year while living in the Bay Area I took a road trip south to Santa Cruz to check out the 2009 Fly Fishing Film Tour. It was pretty cool.

So now that I have relocated to better fishing waters again I am partaking on a little road trip west to The Dalles, OR to check out this years tour. This year though close friends are also going to check this out.

This new craze of films featuring fly fishing seem to have caught on. I myself once in a while find myself either on youtube or the actual tour site checking out the latest in films. This new culture of younger fly fishers sort of a love hate situation for me, because I am somewhat of homebody when it comes to fishing sometimes I grow tired of seeing exotic fishing locations, yet on the other hand often I find myself suffering from severe wanderlust.

This new trend in me started last year at this very event in Santa Cruz with the Eastern Rises film. I have to tell you I would give my left arm to visit Russia for some truly wilderness fishing.

Alas, I know that this is not really going to happen anytime soon so in the meantime, I will continue to enjoy all the diverse fishing that is available to me at this time.

New to me this season starting March 1 is going to be learning an entirely different type of fishing. No I am not going to get into Bass or Carp, but I am going to dive head first into still water. This seems more daunting then streams ever seemed. So wish me luck and look for future post regarding the lakes situation here in Eastern Washington.

Methow Fishing Trip Pt. 2 Day 1

Well, this Valentines weekend was spend waist deep with one of my many loves. It just so happens that a fishing buddy had the weekend off from family life; when the wife had planned a girls only weekend. So when an opportunity presents itself it is must fish.

The trip started with the 5 hour drive north into the Washington Okanogan country to fish cold turkey on water not seen by either of us. The Methow River flows east out of North Cascades National Park toward the mighty Columbia. It's Steelhead are the typical variety ranging in sizes from 24 to 30+ inches. It is not confirmed that some of the fish are B run fish, but a large steelhead is always possible.

This two angler exploratory/fishing party started the trip on day one floating what was supposed to be a short 5 mile stretch from Upper Burma Rd. down river to the next highway bridge. Not much knowledge of the river or it's fish was available so it was planned to take all day to finish off this stretch trying to find fishing water. It took all day in fact almost into night after a pontoon on the vessel sprang a fast leak requiring fill up every ten minutes or so. Nonetheless, the boat issues did not deter the two hearty souls from fishing as much water as possible. As night drew nearer a fellow angler was spotted fishing a run ahead. Also it was noted that a vehicle was present. In short order it was decided to ask for a lift to where the shuttle had parked our ride home.

Really the boat is not the story here. After all, we were here to do some fishing. The Methow is a real intimate river with extremely clear water with typical free stone stream structure. Running from riffle to pool the river set up for good water. After trying to fish the first few good steelhead runs without success finally in a classic looking and fishing run produced the first fish of the day. This first fish was nothing of note except it was the first fish on new water. Which if you have ever fished much water for steelhead it is something to note. Noticing the the speed, depth and structure of this hook-up led to future attempts. After a few more stops without success frustration began to set in. Then rounding a corner behind the town of Methow a picture perfect run lie ahead.

As the river divided into three, around two small gravel bars, the largest of the fingers run into the corner against a very large and steep cliff and ran 20 yards or so before merging with the middle of the three fingers creating expectational holding water with large structure making for good hiding spots for large fish. If that was not wonderful enough the third came into the run making the middle section of this run something of a dream. On the inside bend of this corner a large eddy was formed requiring deep but not difficult wading. Setting up a cast into the moving water against the hillside opposite of Methow. If there were a thousand words to describe the run they would appear here, but words would not do justice to the set up for this hole.

Surely luck was about to change. Lady luck was gracious. The first drift in the large pool was going well as the indicator floated with good speed just short of the inside foam line seam. After being warned at the local fly shop to look for the subtle takes imagine our surprise when the indicator dunked under the water and began to swim upstream. Well, so much for subtle takes. After spending close two hours fishing this run which was easily a few hundred yards long. Five fish were brought to hand. The largest, a gorgeous, native buck of 30+ inches required help in landing. The future was looking bright.

Alas, it was mere minutes after leaving nirvana that the leak in the boat was discovered. Not deterred each promising looking hole was worked hard with no luck. After each stop air was put in the boat advancing the anglers down stream short distances each time. After several fill ups the fellow angler was found resulting in the ride to the shuttle. After inquiring of the possibility of a ride no time was wasted in getting the line into this promising looking hole. while waiting for this fine gentleman to fishing up fishing the run, in which, he claimed to have hook three. One more fish was hooked and only a few head shakes felt. By this time our ride was leaving.

After hauling the boat over rough terrain for a hundred yard and up the bank to the guardrail day 2 was looking bright. A plan was agreed to while driving down the Columbia to where sleep awaited.

Methow Fishing Trip

This coming weekend I will get a chance to explore a brand new area, at least to me, I will be trying my luck in the Methow River Valley in North Central Washington not from from the middle of nowhere.

The river is open again after being closed for many years to protect native steelhead populations. Now thanks to many efforts on the part of many interested parties the river is a great place to cast a fly.

Not only do you have the chance to catch a very special steelhead, but you can also catch a native Bull Trout or some very nice Cutt's.

This weekend the target is the steelies. I love fishing for these fish. When you catch one it seems so special. What makes it special is that the fish not only swims up the river to spawn, but it also has to make it out to the ocean. When there it has to compete with all types of mean critters. Do not get me wrong I will not complain if another one of the rivers species happens to like my offering.

The time will come when I will get up some photo's of this great river. Feel free to look up some web spots on the valley. Oh ya, check out the video at http://www.redsflyshop.com/methowsteelhead.html

Tighlines

A Fishing Partner Part 1

At first glance this topic might seem rather boring. But this begs the question how many can say that you have had true fishing partner? What is "true fishing partner" well to define this is no easy task.

On one of those fine late summer days sitting on the porch looking West as the heat of day fades into the Bitterroots a fine looking young couple stroll's down the block towards towards the house. At this point instead of being shy and cagey as might be the temptation, there is a brief conversation. The details of which faded years ago. After this first encounter there was very little hope of finding what was to become one of those rare friendships that transcends beyond just someone whom to fish with.

In fact, now it escapes me even the first time we hit the water together. Just guessing, it was to the "bridge to bridge beat" on the fork! Which became a favorite and if there is such a place as "home water" this would be the place.

Fishing and Fishing Partners

Well it has been awhile, but life has taken me away from wasting time as of late. As I type this it is really to late at night to try and author a real article. Nonetheless, there are some musings in regards to fishing and fishing partners that I need to get off my chest.

I figure that in the near future I can promise a series of two posts that will I hope bring back some good memories as well a thought provoking verbiage that will help make sense as to why this sport has taken on a life of its own within my relationships, friends and life.

Meanwhile,

Tight Lines if possible; if not dare to dream. Good night world.