My Huckleberry Friend
January 9th, 2010
Time to get back in the canoe. With less than five months to train for the Texas Water Safari, I am definitely starting to feel the pressure. I’m gathering up all my cold weather fishing gear/clothing to resume paddle training this week. I’m not going to look like a professional paddler, that’s for certain, but I can’t justify spending an extra buck on fancy paddling clothes if I can make my fishing gear work. We shall see.
I may not be an expert paddler, but there’s one thing I know something of, and that’s music. And rivers. So in an effort to get my corpulent yuletide fanny off the couch and back on the treadmill, I’ve created a whopper of a playlist with great songs about RIVERS.
I have to imagine a few of you could chime in on this topic. So tell me, my huckleberry friend, what is your favorite river song?
In the meantime, enjoy the flow of these selections…
I Really Do Love College Football
December 31st, 2009
No matter! We decided to make the most of it and go anyway. We recruited my cousin and her husband to join us. Despite nosebleed seats and frigid temps we had a blast. On the way in we met other revelers who were passionate SEC football fans, just there for the booze. And we made friends with some Clemson guys seated in front of us, one of whom loved to fish and spent most of the game showing us fishing pictures on his phone and talking about South Carolina sheep-head with the Professor.
Kind of a problem later in the game when he received a text that his friends were detained by police. As he was trying to deal with the logistics of johnny-law, his phone ran out of juice. Oh well. It is my experience fisherman love to talk fishing at the expense of many things.
As it should be.
Cheers to our new Clemson fans, and I hope everyone is gearing up for a full, blue-moon New Years Eve and preparing to watch a lot of football tomorrow. In the meantime, enjoy some shaky footage of our adventure at the Music City Bowl the other night:
What Does Donna Summer Have To Do With Fishing?
November 3rd, 2009
It started in the Bahamas a few years ago. At the end of the final day of our trip, Stevie said, “Last cast now, this it it.” So I started casting away while crooning the Donna Summer melody ‘Last Dance’ — although I substituted my own lyrics, “Last Ca-ast…this is my last cast for a fi-i-ish. Last Cast…Last Cast…”
My dad raised an eyebrow and shook his head, Stevie tried not to smile while poling for the last fish and my mom worked her Sudoku without looking up. The bonefish dismissed me as well.
No matter, I’ve taken the technique stateside. Turns out fish, friends and family ignore me just the same in freshwater as they do in salt. Last shot of the day on the Missouri and I bust out the Donna Summer tune. I simply can’t hold it in! Little Chick will be hot and hungry and bored and acapella I promise her to a disco beat, “Last cast…this is my last cast of the da-a-ay.”
Last cast, last dance, last waltz — what fly fisherman doesn’t love a good Hail Mary? Perhaps that explains my recent lapse in judgment in taking Little Chick downtown last Friday evening, the night before Halloween, to 6th Street among the drunken costumed rabblerousers and the panhandling homeless just so we could see the Michael Jackson movie ‘This Is It’. Hey, what can I say? Whether it’s fishing, disco, rock or pop, I have a soft spot for a swan song.
Which is why I have some really big news…
Unless you have spent most of this calendar year hiding under a rock like a molting nymph, you are probably aware that the Drake Fly Fishing Film Tour of 2009 was wildly successful, hitting more cities than ever with topnotch films. But what you may not know is that you have one more chance to see these incredible films before the 2010 tour begins. Last Dance Texas…
Tailwaters Fly Fishing in Dallas, TX is hosting one last stop on the 2009 Drake FFFT:
Fly Fishing Film Tour 2009 at Tailwaters
Nov 11th, doors open at 7 pm
Dallas Texas
The films are superb and of course look amazing on the big screen. Plus, the guys at Tailwaters do a great job and always throw a fine party so don’t tarry…buy your tickets now! Remember what happened last time I told you to get your tickets? Sell out. Big time. So you might as well trust me this go round and get your tickets pronto! Click ticket to buy online.
River Bank Robbers
July 15th, 2009
We spent four days on The Missouri and almost every rising fish we found was tight to the bank – and I do mean tight to the bank. We’re not talking out in the parking lot or loitering on the steps of a local community bank. These fish weren’t handling petty cash in the lobby with the tellers and day-to-day customers. Oh no, they were locked deep inside the vault of the main branch, well-behind ironclad doors that required seven passcodes and a retinal scan in order to gain access.
These treasure trout were always tucked in close, about one inch from the edge, behind a rock, and under an overhanging Russian Olive tree. Miraculously they also seemed to benefit from a rogue branch dipping out onto the water about one foot upstream, as well as a curiously timed burst of wind that repelled any shot at a quick Smash-and-Grab.
Time to rob some banks.
We were stealthy in our approach, casing each joint in hushed tones, casting from crouched and seated positions. We covered for each other by feathering the oars and gently letting out anchor rope. We threw everything but lit sticks of dynamite at those banks, feverishly trying to penetrate their heightened security and make off with at least one aquatic hostage from each spot.
Good Lord couldn’t we find just one dumb hungry fish chasing caddis emergers in the middle of the river? Just one blind elderly woman with her wallet hanging out of her purse on the subway?
Apparently not. And of course that made it all the more fun once we caught them. Or hooked them. Or…..at least got them to eat before we rowed our getaway boat on down the river.
Like any legendary bank robbing spree, reality eventually catches up bringing it all to a crashing end. But it sure was fun while it lasted! Enjoy the following evidence slideshow from The Great Missouri Trout Heist.
Red Drum Roll, Please…
April 27th, 2009
Ta-da-da-duh! It is with great fanfare that I announce some very exciting news. I have caught my first redfish. And for my next performance….I proceeded to catch a few more after that!
After the film show wrapped up last week, a group of us traveled down to Port Aransas to chase after redfish and soak up the scene on the Texas coast. We wade fished on the first day and saw plenty of tailing fish. I had a little trouble getting in position to make casts some of the time, but it was so cool to see so many schools of fish, and I did hook up eventually.
The Professor drove all the way from Alabama, Miles Nolte flew in from Montana, and Tosh was the ultimate Host of the Coast.
On the second day of fishing, I kayaked with Tosh and he put me on several schools of tailing fish. Conditions were tough with clouds, wind and higher water, but we were undeterred. It was an absolute blast fishing from the kayak.
On our last night we met up up with the rest of the group where we laughed, drank and ate copious amounts of food, including grilled sausage and chicken, deep fried zucchini, fried jalapenos, fried trout, and some potato concoction that sorta blew my mind it was so good.
It was a big time down in Port Aransas. I can’t wait to go back. I am fairly obsessed with redfish at the moment and keep seeing those tails every time I close my eyes. For more pictures and some good tunes by Texas musician Phil Pritchett, enjoy this little slideshow I’ve whipped together.
It Was A Stone Groove
April 23rd, 2009
Last night we brought the Film Tour to Texas in vintage South-Austin-style. And man, did we have a big time.
We’ve been sold out since last week. People have been clamoring for tickets, calling the Drake and practically scalping & trading online. The beer was cold and started flowing early. The weather was gorgeous so the Alamo closed off the nearby street and the pre-party vendor brigade turned into quite the block party. The films rocked, the crowd was into it and the evening went by all too fast.
I am so grateful to everyone who came, to the sponsors and the door prize donors, and to the Alamo Drafthouse. Special thanks to Tosh Brown for serving as our fearless leader in pulling all this together. He flew Miles Nolte in from Montana to sign copies of The Alaska Chronicles and I have to say there was much fanfare for Gaper’s arrival. Everyone was excited to welcome him to Texas.
I was delighted to offer Miles a place to crash at my house, although at 2 am after many many celebratory beers at The Horseshoe Lounge I can’t imagine what he must have thought when he saw the explosion of pink in my “guest” room. Oh you yeah, you guessed it. Miles had to sleep in Little Chick’s room:
Now you may recall my effort in getting the Governor’s support for this show. Gutless Wonder never called me back. So then a few weeks later I was on another airplane, this time with freakshow localebrity, The Lizard Man. I thought for sure he would want to be a part of my marketing campaign for the show. But he wouldn’t return my calls or emails.
¿Cuál es el problema? I am being snubbed by the Lizard Man? Are you kidding me?
I was feeling mildly dejected in my effort to add localebrity buzz. So you can imagine my delight when I was driving down the street and saw Leslie, Austin’s most famous homeless person and the unofficial spokesperson for the KEEP AUSTIN WEIRD campaign. Lo and behold Leslie was thrilled to endorse the Austin Film Show! So a big thanks goes out to my new friend Leslie Cochran.
I know all the other cities are having really successful film shows as well, but I think it’s safe to say that Austin is the only stop on the tour with Leslie Cochran as the opening the act.
Brace yourself for the preview we aired at the show last night:
Even Bonefish Get The Blues
April 8th, 2009
For one scintillating week our coterie of characters shed the coat of everyday armor and peeled away the mask of regular routine to dive into a counterculture escapade that involved chasing bonefish all over Exuma and floating on water so blue that our dreams will forever be tinted a certain shade of Bahamian azure.
Our only job each day was to ride the tide of a waxing crescent moon and kiss each bonie bye-bye as we journeyed forth to meet the next one. Just to keep us on our toes there were stingrays and cudas and sharks– oh my! At night we would indulge in conch fritters and grilled grouper and dance to salty soul music before collapsing into slumber and waking to do it all over again.
It was so dreamlike and delicious that I feel a few Tom Robbins quotations coming on:
“To be or not to be isn’t the question. The question is how to prolong being.”
“Humanity has advanced, when it has advanced, not because it has been sober, responsible, and cautious, but because it has been playful, rebellious, and immature.”
“Disbelief in magic can force a poor soul into believing in government and business.”
“I believe in nothing, everything is sacred. I believe in everything, nothing is sacred.”
“We’re our own dragons as well as our own heroes, and we have to rescue ourselves from ourselves.”
“Using words to describe magic is like using a screwdriver to cut roast beef.”
On that note, let me put down my screwdriver…
About To Be Exhumed
March 26th, 2009
ex-hume — (verb) to revive or restore after neglect or a period of forgetting; to bring to light. (Oh yeah, and it also has that other creepy meaning…something about digging up a buried body.)
Another year has eeked along and now it is finally here: my annual trip to Exuma with my parents. Of course that makes it sound like I have been doing this trip for eons, when in reality it is my parents that have been doing this trip for eons, not me. I finally just wised up about two or three years ago and invited myself to tag along.
So it’s time to exhume the soul with some Exuma fishing. Time to scrape away the layers of sediment that have settled throughout the winter months and start digging for bones – hungry bones, big bones, schooling bones. Hopefully we can bring some of those grey ghosts to the surface and see if they show up on camera.
I head out tomorrow morning, so if it’s a little quiet in here for the next week or so, don’t panic. No need to go all CSI on me and call in the forensics team. I will be back with stories and pictures and at the very least an empty bottle of Kalik that you can dust for my prints. (Spoiler Alert: I bet you find ‘em there.)
So just to get us all in the Exuma mood I resurrected this montage that has been buried in the FFC archives since last year’s trip. Take care & I will catch you on the flipside!
SIDE NOTE: For those of you deathgrind music fans who accidentally found this post while searching on Google for the band EXHUMED…Sorry!
Jalapeno Poppers Are Practically Kryptonite
March 22nd, 2009
I had this brilliant idea to roam around Austin with a video camera during South By Southwest, putting up FFFT posters while trying to catch a music celeb who might give us a little video testimonial to help promote the show.
I thought I could film them saying something like, “When SXSW wraps up, pretty much the only thing I will have to live for is the Fly Fishing Film Tour. Thank heavens a brilliant group of people had the foresight to bring the show to Austin. It’s coming Wednesday April 22, and I wouldn’t miss it for the world. In fact, where’s my iphone? I want to buy my ticket right now!”
I know it’s hard to believe, but even a solid, air-tight plan such as this was actually derailed at the mere mention of a boatride and deep-fried delicacies.
I am, in fact, afraid to report that I was lured away from my assignment. Admittedly, my resolve had already been weakened since my previous attempt at securing a celebrity endorsement was a complete bust. (Let’s just say the Governor is not returning my phone calls. What’s up with that, anyway?)
So instead of beating the street and hanging up posters all over town, I spent Saturday cruising around Lake Austin and indulging in beer, a burger, and all sorts of fried food at Ski Shores. Nothing inspires complete and utter procrastination like a gorgeous TX Hill Country day and a little red basket of stuffed jalapeño poppers.
I simply couldn’t resist. Good call though, wouldn’t you say?
No, I Did Not Sign The Covenant
February 12th, 2009
Harkening back to the holidays, I promised Kentucky Jim I would share the tale of my brief roadtrip from Nashville to Kentucky. You see, the holidays were abuzz with food and spirits and activity and I needed a mini escape from my escape, so to speak. A 24-hour respite to relax and wind down. So we decided to drive over to Kentucky and stay at Shaker Village, which was once a religious community but is now a serene and decadent country inn.
Now let me tell you the Shakers were pious people. And I mean pious! On becoming a Shaker one would sign a sacred Covenant, giving up all worldly possessions and agreeing to a lifetime of celibacy. Marriages were dissolved and your children became brothers and sisters of the overall ‘family’. Shakers worked diligently at broom-making, weaving, farming, and all of their labor benefited a higher power and the common good of the their community.
And they were not allowed to speak at mealtimes.
WHOA!!! Are you kidding me?? They had to eat in total silence?! Those of you who have broken bread with this Chick know that would be really hard for me. While I have the utmost respect for the Shaker way of life, thankfully their rules no longer govern guests of the inn.
And in case you’re curious I did some homework and apparently modern Shakers have loosened up on the whole no-talking-at-mealtime rule. Whew.
At any rate we were inspired to journey into Kentucky on this soul-cleansing, rejuvenating mission. Halfway there we ventured off the highway for lunch. Apparently GPS devices are more and more sophisticated these days because our GPS seemed to know the true character of the people in the vehicle, as it detoured us away from our spiritual journey and straight into Bardstown, KY The Bourbon Capitol of the World.
Loved Bardstown. We kicked around and checked it out before finding a spot to eat. It has all these beautiful old buildings and a charming antique cemetery. Not to mention giant bourbon distilleries which were fascinating.
But back to the task at hand. After lunch we reprogrammed the GPS (not to mention our focus) and ventured on to Shaker Village, which I will say far exceeded our expectations. The meals were delicious, the buildings are beautifully restored and the countryside was magnificent. A hiker’s paradise with horse trails and people trails alike. The sunset rivaled any that I have experienced anywhere. And the snow flurries on the walk to breakfast were storybook.
Everything about Shaker village was pristine and peaceful and for a brief moment, time seemed to stand completely still. It was a breath of fresh air.
Enjoy a little montage of the roadtrip from Nashville to Shaker village KY:
