Doube Grasshopper Saturday

I was at a craft store with my wife a week ago and saw this pack of assorted foam for $3. I thought to myself, “wow, that is way more foam than I will ever need, but I think I should buy it and make some hoppers.” So that’s just what I did.

I’ve never tied hoppers before, and being the beginner that I am, I thought I should try a couple different patterns. I’ve been looking online on and off since I bought the foam. I came across a video of a Logan hopper that looked pretty cool. This was my first try. I think it worked pretty well. I don’t think the fish will be too picky with my technique, but we’ll have to just wait and see next summer. Then I decided to freewheel one. I wanted to throw some red in there and extended the foam casing from the Logan into wings for this one. I used some moose body hair to give it a bit more texture and possibly add to the illusion of moving wings.

Hop hop little buddies. Catch me some fishies.

Am I Deserving? Am I Worthy?

Sir Owl Jones over at Fly Fishing the Southern Blue Ridge and the folks at Hook and Hackle have proposed a question: Why do I deserve to win a Hook and Hackle “Xi” 7’9″ 4-piece 3 weight rod building kit?
Why do I deserve this? Am I really worthy? Worthy is a strong word in my book. I don’t know how worthy Arthur felt as he approached the sword in the stone (Disney version, obviously. Sweet fish scene.).

I also don’t know how worthy the Taco Bell Chihuahua felt when he was cast to say his famous words, “Yo quiero Taco Bell.” (Chili Cheese Burrito? Why, yes. I’ll have 4.)
I do know I am lucky enough to own 1 fly rod. It is a 10 year old 2-piece, 8’6″ 5wt with a wooden handle and graphite shaft. I made it from a kit as a sophomore in high school. Has it caught me many fish, you ask? Well… many is very, very relative. But it is a beauty. It’s special not only because it is my 1st fly rod, but also because I made it myself. That is one of the reasons I am am so excited with the possibility of updating my equipment with another rod I can make provided by Hook and Hackle.
There is one more reason, however, I would be happy to win this rod kit. My wife doesn’t know this yet, but I am secretly trying to turn her into a fly fisher woman. It is a slow process of subliminal messages, compliments, and strategically placed encouragement. I know I couldn’t keep the project a secret, but I could surprise her with the finished product, and possibly, find a new fly fishing buddy.
So, approaching this essay, my preverbal stone with a shining rod making kit buried deep within, I will now muster up all of my courage and use my best Chihuahua voice to say, “Yo quiero Hook and Hackle “Xi” rod-making kit.” and find out if I am truly deserving, if I am truly worthy.

That’s My Blog’s Name.

Since joining the Outdoor Blogger Network, I’ve been propelled into an online community of bloggers that are more creative than I can imagine. It is awesome. I am quickly realizing the beauty of the OBN blog prompts. This helps us all stay fresh and continue to contribute to our online passion catalogs.

That being said, the latest of the prompts has us telling secrets and swapping lies of our past and shedding light on the roots of our names. Blog names for some. Contrary to the AWESOME song by the Ting Tings, “That’s Not My Name,” My Leaky Waders is my blog’s name. Listen to the song; it rocks. (nice semi-colon, huh?)
Now, like many others, the name of my blog is not shrouded in mystery. It is pretty darn obvious that I am the proud owner of a pair of 10-year-old waders that have seams like the US-Canada boarder (I actually have no idea regarding the status of our boarder to the North, but am instead reaching for humor) and material with sieve-like properties that rival my dismal college hockey statistics.
These bad boys are easily filled with 2-3 liters of water after an afternoon in the Nebraska lakes I’ve been fishing lately. Why do I keep them? I’m cheap. It’s more wet than cold. I’m poor. I haven’t fished enough in the last couple years to justify new ones. And I’m cheap.
I came up with the name while on a night shift in the ER this past summer, and it stuck with me. I am, indeed, cursed with optimism, and this also seemed like a general theme for me. Things never go perfectly or as planned. Waders are not meant to last forever, and they will leak. All of them. I’m positive of it. That being said, it doesn’t have to ruin the day or the outing. I am choosing to embrace it.
Still, I do have my eye on the exact pair I am waiting to purchase. I’m hoping a coupon comes in the mail soon, to help me out. Or I find an extra $100 in the mail. *hint hint* To send money to me in the mail, ask for my address.

Awaiting the match.

Anxiety is such a awful thing.

It churns your stomach,
Twists your hands,
And clouds your thoughts
So they never quite materialize.
Everything tastes laced with
The sour, bitter bile of nerves.
Like MSG or dirty pennies.
All experiences are sub par
Until the pin finally drops.
Will I? Won’t I?
Who will take me?
No plans can be made until then.
The whole world will keep moving as
We hold our breath
Lungs burning,
Head spinning,
Without appetite.