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Showing posts from March, 2015

Last Chance at Winter

Just a few images from a winter trip to the Henry's Fork in Idaho.   The Henry's Fork is not a winter fly fishing destination.  The area is normally buried under many feet of snow which makes it a haven for folks on snowmobiles.   This was a near perfect winter day.  Overcast, comfortable, calm.  The midges were out.  The blue-winged olives didn't come out to play.  And the trout?  They came out too, and played, a little.



















I fished until late afternoon.
The tally for the day was twice my last outing.
Two fish.
Wow.
Where did the time go?

I've used this quote before, but am compelled to use it again as it sums up the day perfectly.

"I wondered for quite a while about the fascination of fly fishing.  Why is it that I can wade into a stream at 10 in the morning, look at my watch in a "couple" of hours, and find out that it's late in the afternoon"........by Gene Hill from A Listening Walk and other stories.

March Pheasant

A day of chasing dogs and pheasants. Todays cast of dogs: Addie, Emma and Maggie, aka the twisted sisters.  Each dog had its turn.  Old lady Lucy stayed home.  Someone had to guard the yard from marauding rabbits.



The day started out cool, which, as it would turn out was a blessing.  Hot dogs don't hunt too good, hot humans either.  We didn't have to worry.  No sweat today.  The wind blew through us most of the day.  Thankfully it was from the south.



A skiff of snow lingered.  Handy for tracking the wily running rooster. 








The usual gig.  The birds were out there, just had to find them.  You get some, others get away, unscathed.  Once they get up and get wind under their wings, away they go.  And the ones you see first?  They've probably already seen you.  Can you say adios?







It's amazing how cagy a pen reared bird can be.  They can be strutting around, eating grain in the morning.  A few hours later, out in the field, they seem to realize....what do they realize?  Hell…