New Gear From TFM "The Fiberglass Manifesto"

Greetings from the Land of the Lost. This post is old and was found hiding. Now on with the Fishing Report: None. No rain!!! not since May at least in our watershed. I think total we are up to 0.15 inches in nearly 70 days with temperatures in the high 90s to low triple digits ever day for a couple of months, we even hit 111 the other day. Needless to say the Big Walnut is a bit low only 0.25cfs (that is not a miss print) (the average for July is 122 cfs). Sugar Creek is a little better it is at 18cfs(the average for July is 325cfs). Huge thanks to TFM and William Joseph for the great Mag Current Chest Pack. This is a GREAT Bag and the Magnetic closure is a superior system to any zipper I have ever had to fight.

Wisdom are at least an attempt

So sorry it has been so long life gets in the way of ...well life at least the one you want. Over the next few weeks I will be posting portions of a letter I wrote to my son as embarked on a great journey. “May you live all the days of your life” Jonathan Swift Son you are embarking on the adventure of life, heed Jonathan Swift’s words. If you do not live your life each day you will as Thoreau said in the first essay, "Economy," that most men are slaves to their work and enslaved to those for whom they work. He concludes: "The mass of men lead lives of quiet desperation. What is called resignation is confirmed desperation...." Better to do as Paul said in 1 Thessalonians 411 Make it your ambition to lead a quiet life, to mind your own business and to work with your hands, just as we told you, 12 so that your daily life may win the respect of outsiders and so that you will not be dependent on anybody. Teddy Roosevelt said the following “far better is it to dare mighty things, to win glorious triumphs, even though checkered by failure... than to rank with those poor spirits who neither enjoy nor suffer much, because they live in a gray twilight that knows not victory nor defeat.” “All around you, people will be tiptoeing through life, just to arrive at death safely. But dear children, do not tiptoe. Run, hop, skip, or dance, just don’t tiptoe.””- ― Shane Claiborne Live life to the fullest grab it, hang on and have the adventure. Do not sit and watch it go by! "Journey or Homestead?" Every great story involves a quest. In J. R. R. Tolkien's The Hobbit, Bilbo Baggins ran from the door at a quarter till eleven without even so much as a pocket handkerchief and launched on an adventure that would change his life forever. Alice stepped through the looking glass into Wonderland; Lucy, Edmund, Susan, and Peter stumbled through the wardrobe into Narnia. Abraham left his country, his people, and his father's household to follow the most outlandish sort of promise from a God he'd only just met, and he never came back. Jacob and his sons went to Egypt for some groceries and four hundred years later the Israel nation pulled up stakes and headed for home. Peter, Andrew, James, and John all turned on a dime one day to follow the Master, their fishing nets heaped in wet piles behind them. The Sacred Romance involves for every soul a journey of heroic proportions. And while it may require for some a change of geography, for every soul it means a journey of the heart. The choice before us now is to journey or to homestead, to live like Abraham, the friend of God, or like Robinson Crusoe, the lost soul cobbling together some sort of existence with whatever he can salvage from the wreckage of the world. Crusoe was no pilgrim; he was a survivor, hunkered down for the duration. He lived in a very, very small world where he was the lead character and all else found its focus in him. Of course, to be fair, Crusoe was stranded on an island with little hope of rescue. We have been rescued, but still the choice is ours to stay in our small stories, clutching our household gods and false lovers, or to run in search of life. (The Sacred Romance, 143-44) You don’t choose a life Dad, you live one. Emilio Estevez The Way. Live it Son don’t hope it happens live it out! My son I am excited for you as you set off on your journey of life. You will meet many challenges along the way but you can trust in the many promises of God. Nahum 1:7 God is good, a hiding place in tough times. He recognizes and welcomes anyone looking for help, No matter how desperate the trouble. Psalm 62:8 8 Trust in him at all times, you people; pour out your hearts to him, for God is our refuge. You will have times of trouble and brokenness but cling to these words “He heals the brokenhearted and binds up their wounds.” (Ps. 147:3) More to come soon Thanks for stopping by and taking the time to read...

Duke and the Salmon

My first try at some fiction. Thanks to Third Coast Fly for the inspiration.

Salmon Fishing is risky business, on second thought not risky more of a strange business kind of like what happens this afternoon. It started this afternoon when I was loading the truck to head north to fish the waters I had read about on the Third Coast Fly blog. I had everything to head up the road when my sad eyed bird dog looked up at me with sagging eyes, so I said “hop in Duke lets go”. He wagged is shortened tailed and hopped or should I say somewhat crawled up into the truck and we headed off. The drive was nice and the colors were pleasant but that stretch between Peru and South bend is a killer, boy is it boring. It started to spit rain about the time we crossed the state line but thank goodness that was short lived, I don’t think the old dog could have taken a cold wet afternoon of fishing, at 14 he needs the bright sun to keep moving when it’s cool out, I kinda do too but hate to admit it. As we approached the river I noticed that things seemed off, in the distance the sky was filling up with odd shaped clouds and although the wind was barely blowing it seemed as though the clouds were closing in quickly, it must have be some sort of illusion. We unloaded quickly, the dog ran over to the weeds and let everyone around know he was now in the neighborhood and I rigged up the 8 weight. I waded quickly out into the cool water and looked around to see what happened to be lurking nearby, once my eyes adjusted to looking beyond all of the gold and red leaves floating on the surface, I noticed the bruiser lying in between a log and the cut bank. I casted the fly gently past the salmon and let the current take it past its nose. Nothing! Again I casted just past the front of the salmon and drifted the fly this time the salmon rose to the fly and nope decide against it and settled back into its spot where I had been watching it for the last 20 minutes. One more time I told myself, I casted the fly, this time well past the salmon. Splash, “what was that”, I said out load, I turned to see a porcupine swimming right over the salmon I had been watching and casting too for 25 minutes. I watched in disbelief as the native pincushion swam right over MY fish. I am now mad, my fly is about to drift right in front of the salmon, the salmon is under the porcupine and my dog is barking from the shore at the porcupine. Then it all broke loose! I felt a tug like I have never felt before; I looked to see the porcupine swimming away with my chartreuse line stuck to the quills on its rump. Finally the line broke free of the quills and now was going in the opposite direction. What! Somehow the salmon was hooked up! I watched in disbelief as the line screamed off the reel. Yelp! Just then I turned and looked to see Duke running from the quill ejector and the porcupine ambling away from the river and into the brush, leaving Duke pawing at his muzzle. I told Duke to stay there and I would deal with him in a minute, I had a salmon to land. The battle was one that last longer than Duke would have liked, but he was a champ and lay still for the 20 minutes it took to land this salmon. I beached the salmon and as I removed the tattered fly I noticed a quill in the salmon’s “muzzle”. I removed the quill and released the salmon back into the cool water that was covered with golden colors of a Michigan’s autumn. I then turned attention to my friend of many trips to the river, Duke. He lay near my feet as I reached over and stroked his ears, I told him “Duke you and the salmon are both old, ornery companions give me a minute and I will release the quills from your lips too”.