Give Thanks

Thanksgiving…I hope yours was as good as mine. A thought hit me this weekend while I was in a deep wine-induced state of tranquility – I pondered the question; is my glass half empty or half full? I have a good number of family and friends that function in the half empty mode frequently and I must confess, on occasion I have been known to do the same. I was tried and convicted in my own kangaroo court. I decided to pluck the gargantuan log out of my own eye and take a gander in the mirror. Upon reflection, I determined that I was very fortunate and had much to be thankful for. I sat down and made a bunch of lists. It was a pretty darned good exercise. I thought I might share one of my lists – things I am thankful for as a fly fisher person.

Ozark Fly Fishers. What a great club we have. In fact, we were club of the year in 2005 and we truly deserved it. Many of our members have never lived anywhere else and been involved in a mediocre or worse FFF chapter. I have. Be thankful for what you have here in Missouri. If you don’t like something about the club, get involved and help change it. If you don’t want to get involved, just keep your pie hole shut.
Breathable waders. Every time I see some poor sap in neoprene waders (or worse) my mind harks back to the day when we wore all the other nonsense that really didn’t keep us dry and did nothing but hold in our sweat. I am going to give the inventor of Gore-Tex a kiss the next time I see him.
Comfortable wading boots with felt soles. If you were around before we had these you know how treacherous things could get without felt. These new shoes are light and comfortable and really are a whole lot more safe. Since I bruise more easily the older I get, I am thankful to not have so many banana marks on my buttocks as a result of awkward falls.
Graphite fly rods (especially the value-priced models). What a great invention. Oh sure, fiberglass has a unique feel and there is nothing like bamboo, but you just have to love graphite. You have lots of rod options and your buck goes pretty far. The new reels are pretty damn good, too. Don’t get me wrong, I like the expensive stuff, but my budget likes my options.
Polar fleece. I wish I would have thought of this one. Brilliant!
OFF Volunteers. I am thankful for all the folks that give to the club willingly – the board of directors, committee chairs, teachers, and on and on. So many serve faithfully and without much credit given. Thanks!
Breathable long underwear. Ahhhh!
“Women in Waders” calendar. I don’t look at the pictures…I buy mine to read the articles.
Missouri Department of Conservation. If you don’t appreciate the work that these folks do and the amount of funding provided for the cause, then there is something wrong with you.
Southern Council of FFF. Not only are we part of great club and a pretty good national organization, but we are also connected to the region via the Southern Council. If you haven’t been to Conclave in the fall, you might think about working it into your schedule.
My fishing buddies. You know who you are…you put up with me and you share with me and you bless in ways you may never know. You are faithful through thick and thin and have gotten me out of some real jams in life. I appreciate the fact that you provide a sanctuary for me away from all the other nonsense I deal with…a place where we can go to relax and refresh (and tell a few fish stories and tall tales). I have a feeling it is a glimpse of heaven.
Barb-less hooks. Is it that big a deal to de-barb my hooks when I am tying a fly? No, but I sure prefer when I can buy them without the barb. It is one of life’s simple pleasures. They also come out of your lip a whole lot easier.
Federation of Fly Fishers. Our club is part of a great national organization. You can join national if you have a desire. Could it be better? Yes! Get involved and help change things or…
Cold beer, good cigars, and a flask of single malt. Enough said.
Hot coffee streamside. Another one of life’s simple pleasures.
Insert your list here. Make your own list…it is not a bad exercise.

I also made of a list of the things I am not thankful for as a fly fisher person. But then it dawned on me that my glass would be half empty and I didn’t want to go there. Happy Holidays! You think about that. TL

It's All Good...

What a conundrum we have here. There seems to be something in every human being that has a desire to say “my way or the highway”. This has been known as “Theory X Management” in business circles. We might say things like “live and let live”, but the truth is we spend a whole lot of time judging others.

The recent news regarding the auto industries struggles – the American auto industry that is – made me take a new look at those delightful window stickers with a cartoon character (I think it is Calvin from Calvin and Hobbs – does his mother know about this?) urinating on a competitor’s brand. X*%&@ on Ford, Chevy, Chrysler, etc… You know what I am talking about. You have seen them too. Here is the problem. Chrysler is really Mercedes (Daimler-Chrysler) and Ford and Chevy are loosing money by the millions (almost billions). The latter two have even talked joint venture. Now they are in conversations with European makers regarding selling factories off. I am as bothered as anyone by these developments, but is sure makes you rethink having one of those stickers on your window. We snooze, we lose.

Which brings me to fishing – I love to fly-fish. It is my preferred method. I have some very good friends (and more than a few of them are beloved “rednecks”) that like to spin-fish. We may not admit it, but us fly-fisher-folks like to look slightly down our nose at those spin-casters. Admit it. Oh, we may not have one of those stickers on our car window that says X*%&@ on Spin-fishing, but you can hear the whispers in the shadows. My point - we all benefit from people enjoying the great outdoors, no matter what their method. If Missouri’s conservation program depended on fly fishing only, we wouldn’t have one. If there is an “us” against “them” battle, it is not fly-fishers against spin-fishers, it would be more appropriate to think in terms of those who love the outdoors vs. those who do not. We have neighbors in my community that NEVER (and I mean NEVER!) go places that don’t have concrete and asphalt someplace. They don’t even look up and see the starts. We all need to beat the drum for conservation and preservation of the great outdoors.

Recently, in a message board group for fly fishing, there was a conversation that the group held regarding “what is a purist?” It was pretty interesting stuff. One of the group members came up with a short list of purists: “trout-park purists, wild-trout purists, dry-fly-only purists, Colorado-freestone purists, Current-River-only purists, twelve-pack-with-me-no-matter-what purists, you’re-only-really-fly-fishing-if-your-rod-is-$500-or-more purists, Cortland-combo-kits purists, bamboo-only purists, and there reverse-snob purists (those that totally shun what the masses are doing and think they are in a real special place – ultra-pure, but they have to go out of their way to be that weird). Finally, there are the cross-pollinations of all of these – which by definition would make them impure.” I thought his observations were brilliant, and funny to boot. It got me thinking, albeit randomly.

It is at this point in my reflection, that I must turn to the words of an amazing 10 year old philosopher that lives in our community. Last summer at a little league baseball game that one of my grandkids was in, there was a three way collision at home plate – catcher, runner, and pitcher. The philosopher happened to be pitching that day. He took the brunt of the collision and was almost knocked out. To be sure about it, our team’s player was in the wrong (although it was accidental) and could have really hurt the pitcher. He was able to return to pitching and finish the game. At the end of the battle, the boys lined up to shake hands and our player made it a point to apologize to the pitcher. He felt really bad about it and was almost afraid to approach him. What was the 10 year old philosopher’s response? “It’s all good. It’s all good.” And, he said it with a smile a mile wide. What can we learn from a 10 year old? Lots! You think about that. TL

Think Big!

Think Big! Think Really Big! One of the problems most of us have is that we think too small. We focus on our own little worlds, struggle through our daily issues, pay the bills, and collapse into bed at night. There is no arguing with the point that we must do the daily things (work, pay taxes, pay the bills, etc…) – if we don’t we might end up in debtor’s prison, or worse. However, each one of us can build, and leave, a legacy – no matter how small. Life has a way of forcing into being a “small thinker”. Much of our lives we are told that we CAN’T do something. It usually goes something like this: “they said that we can’t do that…they said that we can’t do this…etc. etc. etc.” This begs the question: “Who are THEY?” I guess “they” is “them”. Throughout history, individuals have defied the odds and done amazing things. Pick your own list of great, “out of the box” thinkers and reflect on how much they have impacted our lives in a positive way.

Page one – the legendary Teddy Roosevelt. He did many things that revolutionized modern America, but perhaps his greatest legacy was his gift of conservation to future generations. TR was at his happiest when he was in the outdoors. He loved nature. He studied the birds and other animals, loved to ride horses in the wild, enjoyed climbing and was an avid hunter. When he was a boy he wanted to be a naturalist and he was the first American President to discuss issues regarding the environment. He was close friends with Sierra Club founder, John Muir - who had a major influence on Roosevelt and his policy making. That was the beginning of the Federal Government overseeing the country’s parklands versus the state governments. Along with Muir’s input, and influence from U.S. Forest Service Chief Gifford Pinchot’s, Roosevelt’s love of nature turned into policy to defend it. In a speech he gave shortly after leaving office, he said, “It is the duty of this generation to use the nation’s natural resources, but I do not recognize the right to waste them or rob, by wasteful use, the generations that come after us.” What is his legacy? He left us with 150 national forests, 51 national wildlife refuges, five national parks, and the core belief that air, water, forests, & the animal kingdom belong to us all. State conservation departments enjoy the support and cooperation of the Federal Government and many were inspired by those beginnings. We all have the opportunity to enjoy these natural resources. Roosevelt was indeed a BIG thinker, a dynamic leader, and put his money where his mouth (huge mouth!) was. Thanks Teddy!

Turn the page to this century and the amazing story of Pioneer Forest here in Missouri. It is easy to drive right by it on your way down Highway 19 – about ½ hour south of Salem. You will see a simple sign on the east side of the highway and beyond the gate is another amazing legacy of conservation and a willingness to thing BIG. Beginning in 1951, St. Louis businessman Leo Drey went to work on a vision he had. He was convinced that there was a better way to responsibly forest. He had an opportunity to acquire land (including a major 90,000 acre acquisition from National Distillers) and continued to accumulate a total of 160,000 acres. His dedicated staff has been managing the property with an approach of “restoring Ozark woodlands through conservative, natural forest management, and preserve ecologically important area and notable landscape features.” In other woods, they are not clear-cutting the land to bring in the buckets of money. They utilize environmentally sound and sustainable practices. Here is the best part. On July 6th, 2004, Leo and Kay Drey announced that they would donate 146,000 acres (the land is in six Missouri counties!) to the L-A-D Foundation. The L-A-D Foundation is a private, charitable foundation currently managing nearly 340,000 acres, most of which are designated Missouri Natural Areas. The Foundation has worked with the Missouri Departments of Conservation and Natural Resources for management of these lands. The foundation manages the forest in this spirit and the land is accessible to Missouri citizens. Leo Drey has been able to get forest owners and managers to think differently about the way they view forests – a BIG shift to a long-range view that will pay dividends for generations. Thank you, Mr. & Mrs. Drey.

What can each of us do? Must we run for President and establish new nationwide programs with huge implications? Not necessarily. Do we need to buy land in six Missouri counties and donate it to a foundation? No. Well then, what can we do? We need to think BIGGER than we do now. Whatever your perspective, you need to challenge yourself to think out of the box and think BIG – at least a little BIGGER than you think now. Each of us must ask ourselves what our legacy will be. I can’t make your legacy for you and you can’t make mine. But, our legacies will be whatever we make of them. It might be as simple as taking a kid fishing on a Saturday. It might be a land donation. It might be a policy fight to protect a stream. Who knows…but I can guarantee you this – each of us has the ability to think BIGGER than we do right now. You think about that (maybe you can even think BIG about that). Oh, and don’t forget to get out and fish! Most of the best thinking is done in the great outdoors. TL

Put Up or Shut Up

Here is my question for you; did you vote on Tuesday, August 8th? Maybe you have an excuse: “I was too busy to vote.” “My vote doesn’t matter…the politicians don’t care what I think.” “I forgot to vote.” Or, worse yet, maybe you aren’t even registered to vote. If that is the case, then shame on you.

It all matters. We live in the greatest country on the planet and in spite of all of its flaws, we have the opportunity to be involved in the process of change (or status quo, whichever turns you on). Don’t ever kid yourself into thinking your vote doesn’t matter. That is a cop-out. It is a way to rationalize your negligence to give a damn.

The big one on the ballot was Constitutional Amendment 1. It is important to note that ¾ of every dollar spent in Missouri to operate and maintain state parks comes from this part of the sales tax. This tax also helps to pay for the prevention of soil erosion across the state. It is equal to 1/10 of 1 percent (as part of sales tax). It was due to expire in 2008 and in the past, those who want it eliminated have had utilize a petition drive to qualify the reauthorization of the sales tax. This time around the Missouri Legislature put the measure on the ballot. It has been reauthorized the tax three times since its initial passage in 1984 (counting this election). Let’s never take it for granted.

The “unofficial” results on the Constitutional Amendment 1 were 484,839 votes YES and 200,157 votes NO. It passed with 70.8% approving, but it has to bother you that over 200,000 people don’t think the way we fund our conservation program is a good thing. It is a long way from being overturned, but a generation from now might just make the difference – in a very negative way. Our conservation program in Missouri is the envy of many other states. We have absolutely fantastic state parks and programs and we are very, very fortunate to have all of the benefits that we do. Let’s all work to keep it that way.

Around the country, some very strange things are happening that will have long-term implications for the fisheries and conservation. There are never ending battles between those who don’t care the least about the preservation of species and environment and those that care deeply about such things. There have been battles out west over “land-grabs” and the destruction of habitat for fish and other wildlife on land that was public but was developed as if it were private. The vigilance of a few good folks has helped stave of the destruction. There is a battle out east over the menhaden (a baitfish that stripers love to gobble up) being harvested as a source of protein and processed into pet food and other products by a large company owned by a Florida billionaire. They are putting a huge dent in this baitfish population and many believe it will have a very adverse effect on the striped bass population. Take the money and run…

We are all part of a bigger picture and what we do does matter. There are those that live their lives in a “take what you can get” mode. There are those that live their lives with the end in mind and they have a desire to leave a legacy – both for their own families and others as well. We all need to be mindful of what our legacy will be.

Okay, enough ranting…let’s think positive and constructive. Here are three things you can do to make a difference:
Take a kid fishing and explain to them the importance of conservation.
Talk to your friends and neighbors about the importance of conservation – be an ambassador.
Get involved in the political process and make a difference, no matter how small. If nothing else, at least vote.

Constitutional Amendment 1 passed – that is the good news. I meant to write about it before the election, but I got too busy. That is the only excuse I have. Shame on me…I will do better next time. I hope you will too. But, I did get out and vote. At least I have that going for me. You think about that. TL

You Find Out Who Your Friends Are

Before my life as a fly fisherman, I was a baseball coach. I spent a whole lot of time on diamonds and collected a load of dirt in my socks and shoes. I loved it. In fact, I still love baseball a whole bunch. However, given the choice of baseball or fishing, fishing will win every time. But, I have a special place in my heart for that great old American past-time – hardball. I still love going to ballpark and watching my grandkids (and any kid for that matter – even big ones) play a little league game. Unfortunately, the big leagues are a stinking mess – what with huge salaries and even bigger muscles (brought to you by your neighborhood steroid store) – but it is still an American classic. There is still something very special about the sights, smells, and sounds of the game of baseball. Anyway, I am not here to talk about baseball, but rather friendships.

Just recently, one of the guys I coached with for years met with an untimely end. He was taken too soon and he was a wonderful friend and buddy. We spent many an hour together talking about baseball, but more importantly we talked about life. He was like a brother to me and I still can’t believe he is gone. The park where we spent much of our time just built a new memorial structure overlooking the diamond and they are going to put a plaque up in dedication to him. He deserves it. He was a special guy and I miss him dearly.

While I was in reflection on his life and our times together, I started thinking about my other friendships – especially those with my fishing buddies. I began to wonder what it really means to be a friend – a truly good friend. And then, I wondered what kind of friend I have been. If I were to ask those that I call friends, what kind of friend I have been, I hope I would get a positive response. But that really is all in the past. I can’t take it back and I can’t relive it. But, I will tell you what I can do. I can go forward. I have resolved to be the kind of friend in the future (and more importantly, in the here and now) that I would like to have. I hope I have been a good friend, but you can be sure I am going to be a better one in the future.

What does this friend look like?
· Someone who is a giver and not a taker.
· Someone who you can call at 2 a.m. if you desperately need something.
· Someone who never talks behind your back.
· Someone that would do anything for you – ANYTHING!
· Someone who would defend your honor (because it is worth defending).
· Someone who would watch our over your loved ones after you are gone.
· Someone who doesn’t play games – only shoots straight.
· Someone who forgives and forgets.
· Someone who enjoys your company in spite of yourself.
· Someone who watches out for you and doesn’t forget you.
· Someone who shows up when it matters.
· Someone who doesn’t keep score on the things that really matter in life.
· Someone who will shoot you straight when they need to.

My good buddy and baseball coach who left us was that type of friend. My life was far richer for having had him part of it. I am thankful that we spent the time we did together. What a good buddy he was. As a side-note, he too was a fisherman. I can only hope that I can be that kind of friend someday. I know that I am working on and I hope that you are too.

You think about that. TL

Spinnin' Ain't For Moi

I was sipping a little Tennessee whiskey the other evening, smoking a cigar, and sitting by one of my favorite hidden streams (location not to be disclosed…I could tell you, but I would have to kill you and that probably wouldn’t be any fun for either of us) and I was pondering the meaning of life. Well, not really. I was actually pondering this whole fly fishing thing. I thought back to when I first tried the sport and how odd everything felt. Casting was strange (vs. my spinning gear), the terminology about blew my mind, and I was afraid I wouldn’t fit into the “club” (not the Ozark Fly Fishers club, but the larger club of fly fisher people everywhere). And then, one day, it clicked. The whole thing fit me like a pair of Levi’s that hadn’t been washed for six months. Bam! I was more at home fly fishing than pulling out the spinning gear. I was a bona fide fly fisherman.

Now…back to the stream. I had come to do some later afternoon fishing for smallies, but I was so taken by the beautiful spring afternoon that I just plopped down my camp chair, grabbed a seat, and soaked it all in. I was just so damn happy to be outside and away from people, and traffic, and e-mail, and voice messages, and bills, and concrete, and noise, and, and, and, that I almost couldn’t see straight. I was just so thankful that I have had the opportunity to enjoy the outdoors and get involved in this sport that I love – fly fishing. I am not even sure how much I fished, but it was good to be there. And, it was good to have my 9 foot 5 weight by my side.

So, I am making a proclamation. I am a fly fisherman. There…I said it and I feel better. I may not be the best fly fisherman this side of the Atlantic, but I also know I am not the worst. I am a “middle of the packer” and, although I would like to improve (and I will), I am pretty darn happy to be where I am at. “I ain’t got it all that bad.”

You might have seen me rolling down an Ozark stream in my canoe hunting down bronze-backs. You might catch me on occasion in my belly boat on a Missouri pond stalking the warm water species. I am even insane enough to fish for trout during the winter catch and release season. I have been known to head north, south, east and west in search of new waters. Chasing the saltwater species is an experience I can’t seem to get out of my system – amazing. I have even caught some monster Wipers on my fly rod from an Arkansas lake. I love to catch anything with fins on these long skinny rods – bamboo, fiberglass, or graphite – it just doesn’t matter.

I have three of everything that I don’t need. Waders, boots, rods (okay, maybe I have more than three – maybe lots more) and much, much more. My vest weights 24 pounds (before it gets wet) and I know that I am never carrying what I need in there. Never! So, I go back to the fly shop in search of that gadget or thingamabob that will give me the edge on the water, driving me from a “middle of the packer” to “almost a guide” status. Unfortunately, a much wiser person told me that the “silver bullet” just doesn’t exist. They are right, but I won’t stop looking. I am looking for an attachment that prevents wind knots. Please let me know if you have one for sale. Name your price.

You think about that. TL

Getting Hooked

Getting into fly fishing is somewhat like being sucked into a black hole somewhere out in outer space. It all starts fairly innocently – a basic rod and reel, a simple vest, and that first fly box with a dozen flies. You get out, give it your best shot, and if you are lucky enough to get that first fish, you might just get “hooked”. If you do get hooked, you remember that moment when you know there is absolutely no turning back. The addiction begins.

If you get into the quiet sport (unless you have friends that yell streamside every damn time they catch a fish), you start to build up your arsenal. It is you against the fish – looking for that edge to tilt the scale of justice from beast to man. You accumulate too much equipment and then, at long last, your attention turns to building up your inventory of flies – flies, flies, and more flies.

The more you fish, the more flies you go through. You lose them in any number of ways. You get them snagged on a rock or a log. You lose one in a bush. You hook the vest of your drift boat partner. They fall out of your fly patch on your vest. You snag one on your friend’s ear lobe. At two bucks or so per fly, you can almost hear the dollar bills shuffle and the change jingle every time one disappears. Cha-ching…cha-ching…cha-ching…there went your kids’ college funds. But, those fish…those big beautiful, fish. And, all those flies…how can you resist. Losing flies can get pretty darned expensive.

First you progress from paying “full retail” and look on e-bay and other discount fly options. “Hey, Bob – did you see this – Rock Bottom Flies dot com has got hare’s ear nymphs for $1.19 / $10.00 per dozen – I am jumping on that!” Then you slide downhill into a mode whereby you purchase weird patterns that you don’t even remotely need and won’t ever use because they have them on clearance. You tell yourself, “Well…it might catch something someday…” If they are cheap, you buy them. P.T. Barnum has a chuckle from the grave. Somehow, you just don’t seem satisfied. There is a hole in your soul.

Then it hits you – you concoct a solution to save yourself money. You decide that you are going to follow the footsteps of all of the crazy fishermen that have pursued the water creature on the fly for thousands of years and have devised their own formulas for success – you are going to tie your own flies.

It begins with the $200 vise – and it has to be a rotary. Why rotary, you ask? Your best fishing buddy has a rotary and you will be damned if you will be outdone by him. Then you buy hooks – in a few styles and a few sizes. You purchase hackle, dubbing, and other miscellaneous types of parts of animals that have laid down their life so you can save money. Soon your bench welcomes the partridge, pheasant, turkey…rabbit, deer, elk, beaver, squirrel, and possum. Your family begins to think you are nuts (if they don’t already) and strange smells start to come from the area that you tie in. Then, you begin to gather your collection of space age materials – Antron, Krystal Flash, and other stuff. No matter…you are doing all this to save money. It is a sacrificial gesture by you to be a team player around the house to help with the family budge. You have no selfish interest in this part of the sport whatsoever. Nearing the final stages you begin accumulating all types of rare animals fur and feathers – jungle game cock, leopard, bald eagle (oops…wasn’t supposed to confess that one), and abominable snow man. You have collected a tool for every unique technique and fly so that you are always prepared. You are committed. Game on.

When you finally go over the deep end, you look lustily at your dog and cat and contemplate the difference in the property of their fur from your other stuff in your inventory. Could they improve the Twist Furl Sidebender that you have been working on? Then, you expand your hook collection – exponentially. You add lots of new styles of hooks, from a variety of manufacturers and expand the number of sizes you carry. Brass beads aren’t good enough and you graduate to Tungsten. “Those babies really get down deep and fast”, you sell your friends (and yourself!). Your collection of fly tying material has grown to a level that you find acceptable (although there are many, many things that you don’t have that you would like) and the value of your inventory exceeds the value of your home equity. You have arrived.

Upon deep reflection, you decide to calculate what your approximate savings are on your self tied flies. If you tie faithfully (2 dozen flies per week) for approximately sixty nine years, you will have saved yourself eleven dollars and eighty nine cents. You pause for a moment, sigh, and smile.

You think about that. TL

Rantin' and Ravin'

This month I was going to write a flowery column about the beauty of the trout we have here in Missouri. I was thinking of the beautiful blues, greens and pink hues on a rainbow trout. I am inspired by the yellow, red and earth tones on a brown trout. Heck, I even love the golden and bronze colors on a smallie. I have seen panfish on streams in the Ozarks that look downright tropical with their shades or orange, green and blue. That is what I WAS going to write about. But then, my crabby self kicked in and I decided instead to rant this month and rant, I will. Here goes.

I used to play golf. I played lots of golf. I played it for business. I played it in my spare time. I thought, as an American male, that if I didn’t play golf there was something wrong with me. I was actually pretty good. Then, a couple of years ago, one day while on the course, I had a very personal epiphany. It dawned on me that I was standing on grass that had more chemicals on it than were sitting inside of a WMD plant in Iraq. The grass was groomed better than I have my hair cut. It was so green it glowed. The clothes people were wearing just looked weird to me. Yellow pants?! Tasseled spikes? Come on! And the keeping score thing just bugged me. Don’t get me wrong on the keeping score thing – life keeps score and I have a very competitive nature, but it seemed to take the fun out of it. What struck me was that I had not really enjoyed a round of golf since I was in college. I had played plenty of rounds, but somehow I knew it wasn’t my thing. I resolved that day to make a change. Don’t get me wrong – I have nothing against golf, but I knew I had better things to do with my time than smack that little white ball around and count my strokes. If golf is your thing, then rock on.

What did I do? I took up this incredible sport of fly fishing instead and I have never looked back. I have loved every minute of it and I have had the opportunity to fish in lots of beautiful natural places where the only fertilizer is run-off from the farms and cow manure. I have met some of the most fantastic people and made friendships that will last a lifetime. I even took up fly tying and now catch fish on things that I make. I feel much more connected to the planet that I reside (temporarily) on and am far happier. And, I don’t have to keep score! That alone is worth the price of admission.

Which brings me to my point. If you want to keep score, take up golf. I don’t care how many fish you caught. It strikes me as a “Freudian thing” and you guys out there know what I mean. If you have this variety of complex, then I would suggest that you drive a Hummer, brag about your golf score, buy a cigarette boat for Lake of the Ozarks (100 feet long is a nice size to start), tell us how much you had pay in capital gains taxes last year, but don’t tell me how many fish you caught. Please keep it to yourself – at least when you are around me. Please?!

Everyone counts how many fish they caught – sort of. There is no shame in generally keeping track of what you caught and what you caught it on. We keep a mental record (and some keep a written record) of what is working for future reference. It does help. We reflect on the weather, the water levels, the hatches, and whether nymphs or dries are working on that day. We make adjustments to improve our future opportunities for success. That is all good. If your friends are having success and you are not, you want to know what you have to do to improve your chances. You have to pay attention to these things to improve. That is fine. Even the gurus have bad days. And, even the novice hits home runs sometimes. Your only chance of catching a fish is if you have a line in the water. Fish more often! That is usually a pretty good place to start.

However, after you enter into double digits (10 plus) and you keep counting – particularly if you are counting them down to the exact number – I really think you need to examine your motivation. I know folks who are telling me that they caught 37 fish, 42 fish, or 28 fish. Are you kidding me? At that point, you have basically had one fantastic day of fishing and you really don’t need to shame all of your fishing buddies into feeling inadequate. Or, maybe you do. Chill out, cowboy! Hey, I don’t mind hearing about that big one that made your day or an occasional story about how high it jumped out of the water or how hard it ran. Those are the campfire stories that make the outings fun. How about summaries like “I did pretty good today” or “it was one of my better days in a while” or “we caught a mess o’ fish”. I don’t mind that. But, when you tell me specifically that you caught X fish (and it really is a bunch of fish), damn it, I feel like you are bragging and you just ruined my day. Especially, if you out-fished me…but that’s my problem and I have to deal with that on my own terms.

For me, a bad day fishing is better than a good day doing anything else. When I get out to a beautiful place with natural surroundings and get to throw a fly line, I am pretty damn happy. If I catch a fish, that is a bonus. If I catch lots of fish, I am thrilled. But, I don’t keep score. If you want to keep score, go play golf. Or, if you want to keep score while fishing, don’t fish with me. If you do fish with me and want to keep score, at the very least, keep it to yourself. Thank you very much! Beyond that, enjoy the sport of fly fishing and all that comes with it. I am thankful that somebody thought up this idea. The golf was taking years off of my life. The fly fishing and fly tying is adding to it. At the very least, the quality of my life is better. There is so much to enjoy rather than counting how many fish you caught (and telling everyone else about it). Just my two bits - for what it is worth. You think about that. TL

Lee Wulff – The Legend…The Man

I was sitting at one an Ozark Fly Fishers meeting recently, looking at folks wearing the new apparel, and in particular, the slogan on the back of the t-shirt caught my attention. The shirt has a quote attributed to Lee Wulff: “Gamefish are too valuable to be caught only once.” As I looked at several shirts with this on the back, I wanted to know more about Lee Wulff. My search began…to find out more about this legend of fly fishing.

We know he coined our shirt slogan and is considered the father of the catch and release movement. Back in 1939, Lee Wulff authored a book, Handbook of Freshwater Fishing, published by Frederick Stokes Company, and this phrase was in the text of that book. We know he developed the Royal Wulff pattern and an entire family of “Wulff” patterns. We know he was married to Joan Wulff – a fly fishing legend on here own. But, what don’t we know about Lee Wulff. Or, put another way, what didn’t I know about Lee Wulff. Along the way, I discovered a fascinating individual that led an amazing life and some of the things he did just might surprise you.

Lee Wulff, upon reflecting back on his life, said “I was born to fish.” This man born to fish arrived on the planet in Valdez, Alaska, a frontier mining town, in 1905. Trout and salmon runs in the nearby rivers were fantastic. According to his own account, he was catching trout by the time he was two years old on a piece of bacon on a bent pin. In Valdez, because the fish were so plentiful, anything short of fishing with dynamite was legal. There were no limits. He learned many different ways of catching fish as a result. As a boy, he became very proficient at spearing fish and it was his favorite type of fishing while growing up. An interesting beginning for the father of the catch and release movement, wouldn’t you say? Then, Lee Wulff met Rosy Roseen, a local jail guard that owned a fly rod and flies and he tagged along with him to see how he caught trout. This was a whole new way of thinking for Lee.

When Lee was nine, his father sent away for a fly-fishing outfit for him. As a side-note, his father cared nothing for fishing. It came with only a few flies and he soon lost them. His “fly-fishing mentor”, Rosy, only had a few flies himself. What is a boy to do? He tried tying his own using any feathers he could find, his mother’s sewing silk, and used only his hands. He looked at pictures in catalogs trying to imitate them, albeit clumsily. Their family later moved to New York and it was there that he watched, with wonder, a fly tier use hackle pliers and spin hackle and make that beautiful flare of feather fibers. He became intrigued with fooling the fish with something artificial. He had already learned how to tie them completely with his fingers only – no vice, no hackle pliers, and no tools. He tied flies by hand (no vice) for an entire lifetime – all the way down to #28 flies for trout. Humbling!

In 1920, when he was fifteen, he moved from New York to California and was exposed to a whole new world of trout fishing. He saved his own money to purchase new tackle and new materials to tie his own flies. Their family took a trip to Yosemite National Park and he fished almost every waking moment. On that trip, while fishing the big Merced River, he found some trout rising that he could not catch. The fish were smart and not interested in his 2X (probably thicker) tippet and flies tied on #12 hooks (or larger). His frustration must have been obvious and a car pulled up and a man came down to the water’s edge and handed him a box with two small dry flies in it - #16 Quill Gordons. This stranger suggested that they might do the trick and introduced himself as Outdoor Franklin – hunting and fishing columnist for a Los Angeles newspaper. He abruptly left in a cloud of dust. Lee Wulff gave these “mosquito looking” flies a try. The trout looked at the flies, but didn’t take them. He later determined that he probably needed a long, fine leader to finish the job. He did send him a thank you note for the flies. This “chance” meeting obviously had a large impact on the young Lee Wulff.

He later went on to receive an engineering degree from Stanford University, and then went to Paris to study art. He later came back to New York to begin a career in commercial art. During much of that time, he neglected to fish. A year into his move to New York, he met an artist at the advertising agency where he was an art director that was an avid fly fisherman. This individual rekindled his interest. Unfortunately, Lee Wulff had given away or sold all of his guns and fishing tackle in San Diego before going to Europe. He purchased a new fly-fishing outfit and returned to the water. He had developed a skill for improvising with flies while he was on the West Coast as a boy and he began to do the same out East. He would look under rocks and moss searching for trout food and what to fish. He and is friend would even occasionally hook on live stoneflies and really bring in fish. This led him to develop imitation stonefly nymphs with chamois, peacock and other materials. This was the beginning of a very innovative time for Lee Wulff with regard to flies. His pursuit of a better way brought in his improvements to the dry fly and culminated in the Gray Wulff, the White Wulff, and the Royal Wulff. His use of bucktail was an innovative use of animal hair on dry flies. How is that for a pioneer! He actually wished he would have patented the use of animal hair for dry flies, but he felt like the innovation did give his name a permanent place in fly-fishing history.

In 1930 he took a position in Louisville, Kentucky as an art director with a large advertising agency. He missed the trout streams of the East and when his company announced a pay cut it was just enough to cause him to quit. He moved back to New York and the bottom had fallen out of the job market and the Depression was a full-blown reality. He found work but it was during that time he made the decision to make a career out of fishing and move streamside. It took him six years to break away from New York City but he was eventually able to support his family by doing freelance artwork, fly-tying and writing, and filming and lecturing about fishing. His dream was realized and he was willing to be happy, even if it meant being poor. He was truly committed to the sport and had a deep desire to be true to himself.

The legend Dan Bailey, a close friend, insisted that Lee change the name of his fly the “Ausable Gray” to the “Gray Wulff” and also helped him work on the Grizzly Wulff, the Black Wulff, and the Blonde Wulff. In 1931, Lee Wulff designed and manufactured what is thought to be the original fishing vest. He and Dan Bailey set up fishing classes and received some publicity in a local fishing column. It was shortly thereafter that he penned his catch and release quote. He continued to lead and innovate in the sport of fly-fishing. In 1960 he had the first network television show on fishing on the CBS “Sports Spectacular” and in 1964 he shifted to the ABC “American Sportsman” to make fishing films. This was a dramatic launch-pad for sound conservation practices and the catch and release mantra was displayed for all to see. He was also one of the founders of the Federation of Fly Fishermen (now known as the Federation of Fly Fishers) and had a passion for Atlantic salmon – especially caught with a short rod. His efforts to protect the Atlantic salmon included work in the United States, Canada and worldwide. Lee was also active in the formation of the Atlantic Salmon Foundation. He was a multiple record holder of fly and all-tackle records and was known to fish for big game until the end of his life – including slugging it out with tuna, Pacific blue marlin, Pacific sailfish, and others. His passion spilled into all that he did.

There are a number of other things about Lee Wulff that many people don’t know. On top of being a spectacular fisherman, he was also a very astute hunter. One if his favorite things to do was to hunt alone for deer in the quiet of the deep woods. He also enjoyed hunting for grouse and loved to eat both the grouse and venison. He was a three sport athlete in college. He was an accomplished airplane pilot. Even into his eighties he was known to handle a chain saw and drive a bulldozer. He was both a man’s man and a classy gentleman – defining style and grace. He loved to fly his plane into remote areas of the backwoods. In his 86th year he died at the controls of his bush plane. Nobody who knew Lee thought that the crash had killed him. His co-pilot said, “I will always believe that Lee’s death was the cause of the accident – rather than the result of it.” Lee Wulff went out participating in his passion and he died much like he lived. When told of his death, Charles Kuralt, the host of CBS’s “Sunday Morning” said, “Lee Wulff was to fly fishing what Einstein was to physics.” He is survived by his wonderful wife, Joan Wulff, a fly fishing guru on her own accord. She continues to be involved in the fishing school that they built together and actively involved in the industry.

Lee Wulff gave more than he took. Conservation and stewardship – catch and release – were more than just words to him…they were a way of life. Thank you, Lee Wulff, for making such great contributions to fly fishing. We miss you Lee. You think about that. TL

The Conservative Conservationist – Real Deal, Oxymoron, or Simply Just a Moron?

First of all, let me start this reflection with the disarming of any preconceived notions of where you think this one is going. One of the things I love about the Ozark Fly Fishers is the fact that we rarely talk religion and politics (except our beloved friend, Joe!). What we usually talk about is fly fishing and that is a good thing. Most of us are drawn to fly fishing as a means to get away from all of the other stuff that we have to deal with in our lives on a daily basis. It gives us a diversion, a way to recreate, to refresh, and to just flat out enjoy ourselves. It beats gambling and it is a helluva lot more satisfying than watching our local sports teams squander their fame and fortune.

Speaking of religion, we come from a number of different backgrounds – Catholic, Protestant, Jewish, Agnostic, Atheist, and other various persuasions. And, rumor has it that there are even a few Presbyterians in the club. Can you imagine – Presbyterians in the Ozark Fly Fishers? Who’d of thunk it? Actually, now that I think of it, the minister, Reverend Mclean, in “A River Runs Through It” was Presbyterian. And, as for politics, there are Democrats, Republicans, Libertarians, Independents and even some members of the Disenfranchised Party, among others. Oh, we do occasionally get into a little proselytizing, a little campaign plug for our favorite candidate, or maybe we are fired up about a cause that is just tugging at our heart. So be it. We also have different perspectives on equipment. Short rod or a long rod? Graphite, glass, or bamboo? 1-Weight, 5-Weight, 8-Weight, Why Wait? Floating line or sinking line? Furled leader, mono leader, or make your own? Dry fly, nymph, or streamer? Store bought or tie your own (I prefer to take mine out of the bushes where people have snagged…heck, they are free!). Do you fish in a creek, river, stream, lake, ocean, or wherever? But, at the end of the day, we all have a common bond and we know it. There is a big tent that we share and if we do it right, we can all benefit.

We come from all walks of life, a variety of socio-economic backgrounds, different age groups, different zip codes, different religions, opposite political parties, and lots of different perspectives on how things should be done. Our club is a beautiful mosaic of 300 people that are all committed to many common things – most of all protecting and improving our fisheries. If you are not, well then, you are a taker and not a giver and that takes me back to my comments from the last newsletter – and you probably don’t want me to go there again. So, let’s press on.

Each one of us depends on good places to wet a line for healthy fish. There are some of us fortunate enough to have a place on private land where the fishing is un-pressured and quite good. Congratulations. A few more us may even have well-heeled friends and family that have a place we can access. But for the rest of us working (and retired) stiffs that don’t we depend on areas with public access. Property ownership is an interesting thing, because many moons ago when only the Indians occupied this great land, nobody owned the land. The Indians believed that the land was owned by no-one and that they were merely stewards over the resources. They took good care of it, killed only what they needed, and left it like they found it. Pretty good philosophy, eh? Ted Nugent – rock star, gun rights activist, reality show host (Ted or Alive on OLN), and “live off the land” Michigan property owner says it like this: “If that animal that you killed, gave its life, the least you can do, out of respect, is use every bit of it possible.” Maybe Ted Nugent is a descendant of the American Indian. Maybe not. Back to property ownership – at some point in time, someone had to be the first person to own that acreage. Who decided who that was? Who sold it and profited initially? It is like going to a Blues’ or Billikens’ game at The Savvis Center and trying to park on the street on a “free” meter and some guy tells you it cost $10 to avoid a ticket. Those who pay him don’t get a ticket and those that don’t do. Is his brother in law a city cop or the City Clerk? It is something to think about, anyway. Does the system have some corruption in it? It always has and always will. What we do know is that we need good public access places for us to fish.

The recent discussions in the Missouri legislature about changing our current funding of conservation is enough to make your head hurt. We all better care enough to make damn sure they don’t change it for the worse. Our state has an excellent program and is a model for many other states. Count your blessings and work hard to keep it that way. Could it be better? Yes! Could it be worse? Much. Let the politicians tap into that money for other purposes? Are you kidding me? Should we let them utilize those funds for fabulous programs like the Emission Testing Centers? I don’t think so. What a scam that program is. Most politicians are simply pigs at the trough, nudging each other for funds for their pet projects. It doesn’t matter which side of the aisle they are on. They all waste money and deal with bureaucracy.

So, what is your point, Livingstone? Since my column is titled “Random Thoughts” I don’t think I really need to have one. But, I will take a stab and wrapping this up into one. As fly-fisher people, we don’t like to experience crowded streams, lakes and rivers. We like our solitude and good fishing. At the same time, there is strength in numbers when dealing with government. A well represented and active membership gets heard. We not only need to be members of OFF (and TU, and FFF, and SMA, and others), but we also need to get involved at whatever level we can afford – both time-wise and financially. Many have gone before us and served our interests faithfully. We benefit without even thinking about it. What will our legacy for generations that follow us be?

One of the most interesting personalities in the outdoor world is the founder of Patagonia, Yvon Chouinard. Entrepreneur, passionate environmentalist, avid rock climber, kayaker, and yes, even a fly-fisherman. He has a written a new book titled “Let My People Go Surfing” that outlines his career and philosophies. He is very contrarian in his approach and yet has grown a multi-million dollar global corporation that practices what it preaches about conservation and the environment. In 2001, along with Craig Matthews, owner of West Yellowstone’s Blue Ribbon Flies (and Angler of the Year in the January 2005 issue of Fly, Rod & Reel magazine), he started One Percent For The Planet. This is an alliance of businesses that contribute at least 1 percent of their net annual sales to groups on a list of researched and approved environmental organizations. This is putting your money where your mouth is. Although I may not agree with Mr. Chouinard on a number of things, I respect his commitment and recognize that many will be benefactors of his efforts. He walks his talk…a lot more than most of us can say.

By banding together to work for the common good, we can build on and improve the legacy for intelligent conservation. We must recognize that there is strength in numbers and remain united for our cause. We need new people entering this great sport – especially young people. As new flyfishers enter the fray, we need to educate them on the importance of clean water and healthy fish (not to mention streamside manners). Our best teaching is done through leading by example. We must be educated, engaged, and involved in the issues. It is not always somebody else’s job – it is ours, too. You think about that. TL