'Out There' Is Over There

As I mentioned a few days ago, my outdoor adventuring efforts now reside in a new home.  For the title of that, I wanted to give some homage to this site.  Introducing Livermush Untamed & Out There.

I apologize that today's post there delivers such depressing news, but it is what it is.  We appreciate your prayers.

That effort will include very little, if any, of the political rantings that it seems I've found myself gravitationally drawn to here.  And hopefully, both endeavors should benefit from the separation.  Please swing by over there and let me know what you think.

-Jeff

Catch

I'll quickly get back to helping you question everything you've historically and erroneously accepted as fact.  But in the meantime, let me introduce you to my new favorite online magazine.  Replete with stunning photography and videography, this monthly online publication will soon become one of your favorites, too.  Kind of like National Geographic for flyfishermen: Catch Magazine.  Ehhh, sorry, that was their blog, which is good...but nothing like the magazine itself: Catch Magazine Magazine.

From the Foto Files of the FlyFishing Funicator

I was very much disappointed that I didn't get to post pictures of quail, and grouse, and woodcock from this winter. Maggie and I got into the woods and/or fields 9 times this past year (hear Mr. Rooney saying, "Nine times, Missizz Beuhler...") and nary a bird shot. Not even one shot at.

So, I was starting to get the impression that God had decided to render null and void my dominion over the beasts of the earth.


So, it is with great pleasure (and a considerable measure of relief) that I present the first trout of '09.


The recent raininess had swollen this Delayed Harvest creek, so wading was tee-yoo-uff. The water wasn't muddy, as you can see in the background above, but "roiling" was the most common adjective of the day.


Picture #2 is a shot of an area that is usually manageable at about thigh depth, but this day was over belt-level. Water temps were in the 40s, air temps in the 50s to low 60s later, and since I only ever wade in canvas felt-soled hiking boots and old jeans, I could only stand it in the water for about an hour at a time before having to walk for 20-30 minutes to thaw out.It was extra nice to get on the water before the heavy pressure hits; the bait-fishing Flintstones will clean it out very soon. I ran into a retired superior court judge on the creek (as he was taking a lunch break and I was relocating the truck upstream and thawing). He named some folks who I know that he had worked with, and said that he had fished this same crick last week and caught over 30, with a couple in the 24"-plus class.

The weatherman missed it with his "2-3 mph winds becoming calm..." because it got to about 12-15mph after noon, which of course made bracing the stream (and especially casting) that much tougher, but I ain't complainin'...