The Ignorant Angler

Indulge me, I'm reminiscing.
We're looking at an old film photo from the late 1970's.  Kodachrome, just like the Paul Simon song.
This is Montana, before the river (and everyone else) ran through it.
The camera was set on self timer and rested on streamside rocks.

A selfie if you will.  I was way ahead of todays kids and their cell phones.
More nimble and quicker then, I had ten seconds to run for the water while making the resulting shot look like I was fishing.  I think that I was shooting around twelve feet of line.  Backwards.
Back then my dry fly arsenal consisted of a few crudely tied Humpy's.  Some folks called them Goofus Bugs.  For me, matching the hatch was pretty simple.  Open fly box.  Ponder.  Which one?  Hmm...   I think I'll pick a Humpy.  
Graphite rods were in their infancy.  I couldn't afford one made of bamboo by Orvis. So, the fly rod was fiberglass.  I built it.  Now really, who "builds" a fly rod?  I just bought the blank from D…

I've gotten to the point where fishing has become an increasingly less important part of fishing.  At least that's what I keep telling myself.  There must be something to it as I keep going fishing without engaging in the act.  Indeed, I'd spent the previous four creek visits dawdling, reading, hiking and taking photos.  The trips weren't a complete loss, I may have dozed off a time or two as well.
However, this day I'd rig a rod and wet a fly.  It was time to justify the moniker of fisherman and use some of the accumulated dust gathering gear.  It was time to catch a fish.
Remarkably, the fishing rust hadn't settled too deeply.  I got a couple out of a sheltered run. Thinking that I could handle another fish or two, I meandered downstream on the snowy deer-tracked trail. The creek, here a straightaway, was considerably more exposed.  The wind had managed to gather the proverbial steam, albeit, without the requisite warmth.
Whitecaps rolled on the normally pla…

I saw this decal in a truck window at the Clearwater Speyclave in September.  I thought it was hilarious, my wife, not so much. I'm getting one of these decals if I ever grow up and become a guide.

I've been thinking a lot lately.  Mainly because I haven't been able to do much else.
One concept that has me baffled is the Big Bang Theory.  I've been trying to wrap myself around that one for a while.  All matter, you, me, your dog, cell phone, universe, multiverse, etc. came from one atom.  One big explosion.  Bang.  Here we are.  Pick a number, add a few zeros and we have recorded time. Thirteen point eight billion  years to be exact.  Why don't we just round up to a nice even fourteen bil? I can't help but wonder how that figure was arrived at? Did they carbon date a Twinkie?  One human lifetime is pretty short in the grand scheme.  Talk about insignificant, it's mind boggling.  Don't even mention dog years.
Then, while listening to NPR this morning, I couldn't help but chuckle at a few of the stories.  To wit.........
Einstein, while working on some equation to solve God knows what, put a minus where there should have been a plus.  Geez Al, what…

Okay, some times you feel like a nut.  This crappy little image is of a sign that's posted in one of the angler's huts at DePuy Spring Creek, Montana (click on it and the fine print may be readable).

I drove over the hill a couple of weeks ago and picked up a winter pass.  That was the extent of the foray.  I was in no shape to fish.  After a brief stretch on one of the picnic tables, I drove home.  I'm hoping to get back soon.  The pox is with me.

I'll keep this brief while I continue to sort trip photos for a post.  We spent a night in Orofino, Idaho while en route to the Grande Ronde. While there, Jo and I had supper at a Chinese Restaurant.  After an ample meal, it was time to pay the bill.  The requisite fortune cookie also appeared. Mine said……

Boats and water are in your future.
Amazing!  How did they know that we were going on a float trip?
We hit the road early the next morning.  It's only a couple of hours from Orofino to the Ronde.  That left Jo and I with a full day to putter around on our own before heading out with the Speywater crew. We got in a few casts and practiced slipping around on the rocks.  Here are a few pre float photos.





While waiting in the exam room at the doctors office yesterday,  I found this in a book about laughter and medicine…….



The definition of confidence is going after Moby Dick…..
with a rowboat, harpoon, and….a jar of tartar sauce!





My back says …enough sitting for now…..I'll be ba…

Some days are like this…..



But they get better…..



On this particular day I set out hoping to find some rising fish.  It was a beautiful evening, calm and overcast. But alas, there were no bugs.  So I was content to roll cast streamers on a short leash. The browns were willing.