The heat rolled in last night
causing us to sweat in our sleep.
Out came the grasshoppers this morning
popping like Mexican jumping beans on the pavement and grasses.
Great Plains winds carry the hopping crazy men
off course and deliver them to the water.
Dare I take advantage of their misfortune
to fool the hasty fish?
With a slow pull and a quick roll
I send the hopper over and over
begging for attention.
I just thought I should introduce you. Wooden handle. Medalist reel. 8
1/2 length. 5 weight. Graphite shaft. I made it in about spring 2002.
I’ve got an Earplug Bug (hopper) on there that I tied last week. It is pretty darn dirty, but the fish don’t seem to mind.
Out to Chalco Hills today to get a quick hour of fly fishing in. Right when I left the apartment, it was clear what kind of success I would have. Very little.
Nebraska is amazingly windy. It never occurred to me when we moved down here that we would face such gales.
Regardless, it was gorgeous out there. I waded a length of about 100 yards. I walked with the wind. This gave me an hour worth of practicing my roll casts.
The results of today’s efforts: 0 fish. 1 pair of leaky waders. 1 happy guy. 1 tip from a catfisherman about a place called Walnut Creek where the bass are biting. Who knows? Worth a shot.
… also, it may be getting time to seal/patch my waders. this is getting ridiculous.
I have been using this site to post my occasional peotry and such. This has been fine, but I honestly don’t feel I have gotten much out of it. I write the poetry whether I post it here or not. Was my hope that I would gain readers? share my thoughts and find growth in new places? I’m not sure.
So, I am going to give this site new purpose. In addition to writing, I have another activity that gives me joy: fishing.
I have recently been tying flies. Here in Omaha, Nebraska, I don’t have much access to trout streams, but I have found a few area lakes where there are some eager panfish and bass.
I am going to begin telling you about my journey to find and catch the fish. I may tell you with photos, essays, or poems. Either way, I am hoping if give me and this blog a new sense of purpose.
here’s to the future.
here’s to the fish.
here’s to my leaking waders
and a fishing poet’s wish.
An intervention is a surprise party for people with addictions.
And you get in their face and you scream at them.
And make them feel really bad about themselves.
And then they stop.
– Michael Scott, Regional Manager Dunder Mifflin – Scranton Branch
Out to the trail this morning.
It is a beautiful day.
Our healthy bodies are amazing machines.
Pumping oxygen to each cell to fuel the race.
I can’t wait to sweat, be sore, feel alive, run for miles, lose my breath, race a stoplight, and then rest.
What a great day.
Around this time last year,
Sara and I were playing in the Pacific’s waves near
Cabo on the Baja Peninsula.
This is where we would like to be now.
Is this too much to wish for?