A fisherman out of water

This summer has been a very tough one for us in the southeast. There has been very little water and as I write this the Davidson river, a river that I love to fish, is running at 26cfs. All the fish are podded up in pools and are not really feeling safe enough to eat much. I have ventured out a few times bass fishing and always went away not really enjoying the experience. Throwing big ugly flies to even uglier fish doesn't hold that much appeal for me. The couple times that I have dusted off the two weight and went out trout fishing has been somewhat of a dissapointment. I have come to realise that I like to fish water that is deaper than my ankles. I like to have water that can hold a fish anywhere. I did make one trip up to Virginia fishing this summer at the end of which I vowed to go back at least two times this summer. Well, sitting hear at the computer I have neither gone back or have I even tried to think about it. I miss water....

The long road home

Sorry, for this beeing the first blog entry in quite some time. I have been busy with life and, well, just procrastinating. This summer was a busy one for me on the home front and a very slow one on the fishing front. Julia and I bought a house and just bought a new prius. We have been busy with the new 1925 bungalow blues. There always seems to be something that the home inspector did not mention or see. The latest of which was that our oil tank for our furnace had about 60 gallons of water in it. This made starting the furnace up a pain in the backside. Our wonderful mulched back yard that we thought would be great for dogs turned out to be a nightmare instead. When it rains the whole thing turns to mud. Reminds me of the "mudbowls" my friends and I used to have as kids. We would corden off a quarter of the football field when it was raining like it does so often in western Washington, and play football. Talk about muddy times. Well, Julia and my dogs like to find the muddiest part of the yard and play mudbowl of their own on rainy days. It was crazy, one morning I came home from dropping Julia off at work and low and behold there stood two very black dogs. Now mind you our dogs are the color of a yellow lab. Upon further inspection of the house it seamed that Rainier and Chinook had come in through their doggy door multiple times and ran around the house. The entire house from about two feet from the door down was covered in mud. I spent the entire day mopping and cleaning.

The death of ol' Blue

Yesterday was one of those days that you really wish you didn't have to go into work and could be on the water. The weather was absolutely awesome. At lunch time I had to go to the pharmacy for a prescription, and my car was sweltering hot. Made me think it was June and not February. I think it got up to the seventies with just a few wandering clouds. Alas I had to work until 8:30pm and by then the sun would be down and the beauty of the day would have been gone. I could never have predicted just how true this would be. After spending ten hours in the pain clinic listening to a premadonna surgeon flip his patients off behind their backs, I recieved a call from Julia. I sent it to voice mail because I was busy working, but then she called again just a few minutes later. This isn't a good sign. I answered the second call to find out that Julia had been in an auto accident. She had wrecked ol' Blue. Blue is a 1993 Oldsmobile Cutlass Sierra, that is leaking fluids from every seal. Yes this is the one and only Blue that decided to spit it's muffler last week. The same Blue that shot break fluid all over interstate 95 last year while Julia was trying to go through the toll booths in New Hampshire. Talk about a fun ride, driving down the freeway with no breaks. I can only imagine the things that are going through Julia's mind right now. I'll bet she thinks I'm trying to kill her. Or maybe Blue should be named Christine. Well anyway, Julia was fine and Blue is ok, just missing a rear bumper and right rear tail light. Hmmm almost makes me wish the damn thing would just put out one last gasp and expire. Then again shitty cars don't die, they go on and on in body and in the stories we tell about them.

Where I see God.

Where I see god.
I see him in the sunrise this morning.
This morning Julia left for work a little late but still in time to make morning rounds at the hospital. And like clockwork she calls me five minutes after she leaves the house. I answer and unlike the usual londry-list of honey doos, she is broken down on the side of the road. Boy what a morning this is going to be. I'm sick I have a sore throat and now I have to go out in the twenty degree weather to fix my wifes car on the side of the road. I knew this was comming since muflers rarely just decide to jump off cars. They usually give you a few weeks of moaning and groaning. Well, her muffler had been telling me for weeks now that it needed some attention, and do you think I would have fixed it. No, I'm a Hicks, I operate best in crisis mode. So I get all dressed warm and jump in the Highlander and head down the road. Sure enough as I am approaching her car I see the muffler looking back at me. Telling me just what it had warned me of since the new year. I get out climb under her car and luckily it is just hanging by the rubber bushings. I unhook the sad sick muffler and Julia tosses it in the back of her car. She takes the Highlander to work and I limp ol' blue (The name for her car), back to the house. As I'm driving home with a loud now very mad exhaust system telling me I should have fixed it weeks ago, I notice God sitting in the sky. He is telling me that it is going to be all right. The sunrise this morning was something only God can create. The clouds were feathered across the sky crimson like the wings of a long lost almost extinct raptor. This large magestic bird with its wings open welcoming the day, telling all that it is still here, it isn't gone.

The new job

Well, I've been at the new job for almost three weeks now, and I have to say that it is quite an improvement over my last one. I like the people I work with and the pay is quite a bit better. So far I have been just working during the week getting myself settled in and trained up on their way of doing things. I will however be starting my shift this weekend. I will be working weekends and Tuesdays. This will leave plenty of time for my favorite thing and that is fishing. I can't wait until I have more time on the water. I haven't been on the water much lately and I can feel it. It is amazing to me how standing waist deep in water casting a little piece of metal with feathers wrapped around it can calm me.

What are friends for.

Aaron Bunnell came into town on Monday. Julia and I picked him up at the train station in Charlotte. He had finished up his interview with Brigham and Womens and came down to see us. It was great to see him, Julia and I miss him very much. Well anyway enough of the gooshie crap. Tuesday morning Aaron and I went on a little guided fishing trip to a local river here. Our guide J.E.B. met us at the fly shop at 10 o'clock. The conditions weren't looking too good for us as the air temps were only projected to get into the upper thirties and the water temps were hovering around 34 degrees. Well it was a tough day on the water but damn if Aaron wasn't on his game. He hooked and landed several nice fish, the biggest of which was 17 inches. I played clean-up and enjoyed watching Jeb work with Aaron. We only had one scary moment when Aaron decided to test the the thermal protectiveness of 5mm neoprene waders. I actually think that Aaron went completely under. In usual Aaron fashion he stripped the wet layer off and was back at it. He went back to catching fish and showing me how it is done.

It was such a great time having him out. Today we went to 12 bones for some BBQ before we made the two and a half hour drive to Greensboro to drop Aaron off at the airport. Next time I'm buying the tickets

This pic was of Aaron stepping in to take a few swings at a very large bruit. After several fly changes this guy was just not taking, so we moved on..





Here is Aaron showing off his casting prowess. By the look on Jeb's face you can tell he is in awe of Aaron.




Aaron was showing off this pose all day long on the river.




Notice the bitter determination on Aaron's face, the sign of a truly exceptional fisherman.




Jeb asking Aaron, "How do you fight such big fish with such ferocity?"

I was on my favorite fly fishing forum last night and someone had started a thread about everyones favorite photos. This got me looking through my photos and seeing which ones I really thought were well done.

This photo I cannot take credit for but it is absolutely amazing. Julia took this photograph in Ninilchik Alaska. It is of the russian orthodox church that sits in town.

Here is a great photo of a rainbows gill plate. I just love the irridecense of the rosey cheeks.

Here is a great shot of a friend of mine on the Tuckassegee river in western North Carolina.

The beauty of fishing a small creek deep in the mountains. I'll never forget this day because the guy in this picture almost didn't make it out of the woods. It seems that Marty is illergic to bee stings. Hmmmm. One bee sting later and a very outdated epi-pen, and a fourty five minute ride down the mountain to the E.R., Marty is still here.

When Julia and I were in Utila Honduras we saw lots of these guys. The fiddler crabs were everywere. They usually would run away from you and hide under rocks, in puddles and the sutch. But if you kept pestering them they would stand up as tall as they could and deffend their space. This little guy wanted to get ahold of the camera.

In Honduras there isn't a whole lot of police presence, or at least there isn't when you need it. Most people deffend their own stuff from thieves. Everywere you went there were armed guards. This guy was paid to guard this gas station every day.

One evening when fishing on the Davidson river I notices this little guy hitching a ride with me. I layed my rod down and got this shot off before he decided he was camera shy.

James and I spent four days in Quebec on the Matapedia river. Every morning it was cold and foggy like this. This is called Routhierville pool after the little train stop that sits here. You can see the covered bridge in the background.

Here is a great shot of James heading down river dragging his watermaster to the main flow of the Sauk river.

This is probably one of my favorite photos that I have taken. This is of Adam changing flies on the Deerfield river in Massachusetts.

My friend Steve Buckner on the Queets river. Boy can that guy cast.

I hope you enjoy these photos a millionth as much as I enjoyed being there and taking them.

Wow, two post in one day. I'm really getting off to a good start, or the Layercake Australian Shiraz is kicking in.

Julia and I took the Dogs (Rainier and Chinook) on a hike today. We left out of the fish hatchery parking lot and up the Catgap loop trail. All was going well until we reached Pinkelheimer fields. The trail follows a little creek called Grogan creek up to a large field, were it is dammed off by a beaver dam. We have had a relative cold snap this last week with the temperatures down in the single digits, so the pond had a layer of ice on it. Julia and I have hiked passed this pond in the summer and it isn't that deep. It is probably say anywhere from one to four feet deep, so I wasn't that concerned when the dogs decided to run out on it. They splashed around by the bank breaking through the whole time for a few minutes. Then they hit a solid piece of ice and were on top and running. Before Julia and I could get them to come back they were in the water. This time though they were in above their heads. I guess the pond has gotten deeper since the last time we came by. The whole scene was like on T.V. The dogs kept paddling and the ice just kept breaking. At first I didn't think much about it but when the dogs started yelping I genuinely got concerned and damn quick. Julia was freaking out calling the dogs. Rainier got herself heading in the right direction pretty quick and we had her out, as there was a section free of ice all the way to shore. Chinook couldn't figure out that the safest way wasn't the way he came but toward shore. He kept paddling himself out on the ice. This of course didn't work and soon he was getting tired. I was about to go in after him as I was pretty freaked out by now. I really got freaked when he slipped under for a second and came popping back up yelping. I took a large stick and started breaking the ice that lead out to him. At this point he realised that swimming toward me was the best bet. He swam through the broken ice and I pulled him out. I didn't even have to get wet, yippee. And after all of that craziness to steal a term from Brandi, the dogs were wrestling on the bank. So all is well in Dogville.

A new year.

Well, I had a pretty good year last year and am looking forward to a great one this year. I was reading through an online forum that I am a part of this morning and it reminded me of something. Remembering the year for what it was. When you look back on a certain piece of time you can often see things that you either did not notice at that moment or forgot about in the hectec life we live in.
http://www.washingtonflyfishing.com/board/showthread.php?t=45189

I spent a little time this morning looking through my pictures of the 2007 year. I really had a great time. I shared some moments with people that will stay with me forever. Fishing the Cowlitz, Queets, Davidson, S Holston, Wautagua rivers. Catching Searun cutthroat, Rainbows, Browns, Brook trout, Steelhead, and Smallmouth bass. What a year.