Random Thoughts by Ty Livingstone

Our National Parks - Your American Heritage

2009-10-11T21:45:00.003-05:00

“We do not inherit the earth from our ancestors; we borrow it from our children.”
Haida Indian Saying

Ownership has its privileges, as they say. And you, my friends, are owners of our national parks (assuming you are an American citizen, and if you are not, you still get to enjoy them). When I was a boy, my family took a long trip west and hit several of our national parks. At the time, it did not mean all that much to me other than taking the family car on a long trip one summer. We went to Yellowstone, Yosemite, and the Grand Canyon. We also stopped at a few other interesting places along the way. I remember thoroughly enjoying it, but the magnitude of what I was experiencing escaped me at the time. Looking back now, I realize that it was a life changing trip for me. It was the beginning of a love for the outdoors that has been my theme for most of my years (and that has been a whole lot of years!).Thanks Mom and Dad for exposing me to something that changed my life.

I have wanted to write a column on the national parks for some time, but I kept procrastinating about it. The recent Ken Burns special on PBS put it right in front of my face and it was a message I could not ignore. We have talked about taking our grandchildren to some of the parks, but can never seem to get our calendars synchronized. Everybody is so stinking busy…but that is beside the point. A few weeks ago I sat down the watch the Ken Burns series - The National Parks – America’s Best Idea – and was moved in a very special way. The six part series was well done (is anything by Ken Burns not?) and really told the story of how the park system came together. It was a long hard road and the battles were fought by some very courageous and determined folks. When things got tough, they kept at it. Many of the struggles occurred over decades and through various Presidents. They fought the good fight, never gave up, and good things happened. Really good things…lots of really good things. If you have not seen this program yet, make it a priority to watch it and if you feel really motivated, buy your own copy when it comes out. You can even host your own National Park Parties…you will be the talk of the neighborhood. But, most importantly, watch this show!

This series really inspired me to fight the good fight in our conversation efforts. It reminded me that we must take the long view and stay the course, even if the benefits might not occur until after our lifetime. We can study how the heroes of yesteryear did the right thing and because of their courage and discipline we have a number of natural resources that we enjoy because of their efforts. Thanks so much to those heroes – past, present, and future. May all of us pitch in and do what we can to make a difference. Future generations will thank us.

I am also going to suggest that you add to your “Bucket List” visiting the National Parks. As an owner, you really do have an obligation and you won’t be sorry. To help you get going, I am going to suggest you visit three national parks and here are my top choices – Rocky Mountain National Park (Colorado), Olympic National Park (Washington), and Great Smoky Mountains National Park (North Carolina and Tennessee). I happen to know the best ways in and the best places to go and if you send me an e-mail, I will give you my tips. There is no shortage of national parks to visit and there are plenty of things to do while you are there (plenty of fly fishing opportunities among other things). Take your significant other, take your kids, take your grandkids, take a few friends, but don’t delay. You will be glad that you did. It is part of our American heritage.

John Muir was quoted as saying, “the clearest way into the universe is through a forest wilderness.” I think I agree with him. I would imagine that you might too. I hope so. You think about that…TL

BEER...IT'S NOT JUST FOR BREAKFAST ANYMORE!

2009-09-09T21:29:00.001-05:00

Last month I missed my column deadline because I was on a fishing trip with some good friends. I totally zoned out on the date (which is a good thing) and by the time I got back to civilization it was too late. For many of us fisher folk, one of the common denominators of our experiences include a good, cold beer at the end of the day. Some camp coffee to kick-off and a barley and hops beverage to celebrate the day’s end makes for great bookends.

Like so many things in life, we all have very different tastes and preferences. Some like food spicy, others mild. Some like blondes, others brunettes, or maybe even a redhead (or something in between all of the above). Some like hot weather; some like it cold…some like rain, others like it dry. Some like their coffee strong, others weak. Some folks like fishing for bass (the coarse fish, as the snooty among us refer to it) and some like fishing for the small scales (trout)…saltwater, fresh water (budget determines some of this)…worms, lures, or flies…and so on and so forth. Different strokes for different folks makes for an interesting tapestry…and as I have mentioned before, makes for a better trip around this ball we call earth. And, that my friends, brings me to BEER.

If you are a beer drinker (and you know who you are!), you have certain likes and dislikes (or degrees thereof). Some like the Anheuser Busch family of beers (also now known as Belgium beer, not to be confused with Belgium-style ales) and some like Miller (now a South African company). Within those families you have the Bud and Bud Light fight (for my palette, Bud Light is the poorest excuse for beer known to man – the AB attorneys can contact my attorney – Sal Schmuck – if need be). Coors (now a Canadian company) used to be smuggled across the border in car trunks (what a special and exciting time that was for us). Others like their microbrews (my preference…and maybe the only real American beer). These loyalties are bonds that compete with allegiances to political parties, union affiliations, nationalities, regions, sports teams (Cubs vs. Cards, etc. – and by the way, the Cubs suck), chocolate preferences (white, milk, and dark – and even here, semi-sweet, bittersweet, and extra dark), and everything in between. So, we have our loyalties and at the end of the day, you are allowed to drink any damn thing you want to (until the government tells you otherwise…or taxes it until you can’t afford it). What you do with your money is your business.

Which brings me to my point…because I care about my readership (does anyone really read this column? I have no idea, but if you are out there, I have your back!) and want to help you save some money in this time of economic turmoil. You can’t be deprived of your beer, if nothing else. I want you to think about making the most of your money. Beer costs money. Water is free (unless you pay a buck a bottle for it…I have already randomly ranted about the evils of bottled water in previous columns, so I will not do it here…what you waste your money on is your business). For many years, we had nothing but regular beer and all of the variations. Near beer (non-alcoholic) has had various incarnations and reincarnations (even LA Beer, low alcohol beer) without much success. Light beer stormed on the scene with Miller Lite (Tastes Great! Less Filling! Maybe Both? Neither? Depends on your taste buds)…then speaking of buds, out came Bud Light (another Belgium beer, not to be confused with Belgium-style ale) and after spending a gamillion dollars on advertising has become the number one beer in America. I thought we had hit beer bottom (or is that beer belly?). But, NO!

The masterminds of Beer Universe met secretly in the bottom of a Free Mason Temple, did séances, and solicited advice from the Dark Side. They got approval from the John Birch Society and a final sign-off from the International Conspiracy Triumvirate and were allowed to pour water in leftover beer and market it as a healthy alternative to the existing beers on the market. As a result, we were exposed to Michelob Ultra and Bud Select. Less than 100 calories! Take half a beer, add water, and market it. Not to be outdone, Miller rolled out MGD64…64 calories…take half of a half beer, add a little more water, and market it. Again, not to be outdone, that Belgium company, Anheuser Busch took half of a half beer with water added and added a little more water and chiseled those calories down to 55 – the new BudSelect55. . Most amazing of all, is that people actually buy that stuff…and it is not cheap. Coming up next…beer flavored water with negative calories. You will loose weight when you drink it.

What exactly is my point (and do I really need to have one)? Tip of the day…if you like the “lighter beers” on the market, save yourself some serious money…buy what’s on sale and just add water. As for me, I am going to buy the good stuff and drink less of it. It is the least I can do for myself. You think about that…TL

THE GOOD OLE DAYS…OR NOT!

2009-07-07T09:51:00.002-05:00

My guess is nobody noticed, but just in case you did, I wanted to let you know that I took the last two months off from writing. I was not experiencing writer’s block (known as Verbiage Expulsion Dysfunction in medical circles) but rather was battling a bad attitude. My mother used to say “if you can’t say something nice about somebody don’t say it” and frankly, I just could not think of one damn nice thing to say. I had been struggling with the national news getting me down and just when I thought I had a handle on my emotions Michael Jackson went off and passed on. I think we saw that one coming. Anyway, I was trying to get positive and just could not get out of my rut. So, I listened to dear ole mom and didn’t say anything. However, I felt compelled to write this month and thought I would just rattle off a few “random thoughts”. Here goes.

We struggle with the present…we look to the future with uncertainty…we look back at the past with a fuzzy perspective. What do you mean by fuzzy you say? We romance that which wasn’t so great. So I am driving down the street the other day and I see a bumper sticker for McCain / Palin and I says to myself, “myself, the election is over and those folks need to get over it.” A few miles down the road, I see a Kerry / Gore bumper sticker and it dawned on me that this a very common occurrence. And to be very honest with you, I don’t get it…they look like sore losers. If your team does not win, you need to move on. Work hard on the next election, campaign, game, whatever…but let the past go (writer’s note: I am preaching primarily to myself here). Move on…heal thyself…put your energy into something that will change the world – at the very least, take a kid fishing. Pay it forward.

On another topic, what is up with people talking at the movies…the movies are too darned expensive these days (even with my senior citizen discount) and they usually aren’t worth the shekels. But the least several times that I have gone and have had people around me talking to each other during the movie. They run the “friendly reminder” prior to the show and you think they would get it. Kids texting, adults talking, phones ringing and on and on. I start with the dirty look, graduate to loud sssshhhh’s and eventually change seats. None of it seems to work. Woe is me.

Next rant – Major League Baseball games…baseball used to be a quiet sport (now, I think fly fishing has the lock on this market) and we would go to games, keep score, converse, and enjoy a hot dog and a beer on a summer day. Now, we have big screens everywhere, images flashing, music blaring, stuff being shot into the stadium and more. I feel like I am watching the MTV version of baseball and the whole experience is on steroids (well now…maybe it really is on steroids!). I find myself going to less and less games. It is more about the money than good baseball fans. Most folks are not even watching the game. If you are watching on television, you have the guy behind home plate in the expensive seats talking on the cell phone and waving at the camera. Does he realize how stupid he looks? Apparently not.

And now, for my final rant…folks that make a conscious decision to run red lights…not only do they run the risk of getting a ticket, but they could kill somebody. In fact, they do kill people. It is absolutely nuts! I will just say this about that – if somebody runs a red light and hits me, they better kill me or die, because if I can crawl out of my car and make my way to them, I will finish the job if necessary. Okay…now I feel better that I vented.

Now for the good stuff – if you need some therapy (and I apparently do!), take yourself fishing. Better yet, take somebody you care about with you. Even better, take a young person. You think about that…TL

A BEAUTIFUL WINTER BASS

2009-04-10T07:56:00.002-05:00

On Saturday, March 21st, 2009 I packed up some of my favorite microbrew beer (I happen to like Cutthroat Ale), a journeyman’s lunch, a few cigars, the obligatory single malt scotch in my flask, and my favorite bass fly box. I loaded the car with my gear and snuck off to my favorite super secret bass pond (might be a lake, might be a pond…not sure which, but I do know I had it all to myself). The significance of this day was the last day of winter. Sunday would officially ring in spring (which I was desperately longing for) and I was fishing on the final day of this winter season…and for largemouth bass no less. I was reaching the outer edge of my winter blahs and felt like if I didn’t get out, my chest might explode (or implode…not sure which). If one of those two things did not occur, I was fairly certain that my better half might find a way to dispose of me. The last thing I heard before the door hit me on the bumper was “out you go, old codger!” Let’s just say I wasn’t experiencing a warm, fuzzy feeling inside.

The weather was crisp and cool and the morning brought a cloudy sky. On the way to the water, I saw lots of worm and bait fisherman out (getting their bass the easy way…I was going to earn mine!). As the day went on, cloudy gave way to a high and bright blue sky with a beautiful color that seemed to have no end. It was exactly what the doctor (and the Mrs.) ordered to bust up those “waiting for spring” blues. It was the fix I needed. I was bound and determined to catch something this day on a fly rod. I am sure the worms were drawing the demons up from the dark, but I was going to get mine the hard way…my favorite way…on the fly. I worked my butt off and had a number of different flies on but when it came to “nut cutting” time, it was my trusty ole Clouser Minnow that snookered the big mouth. I had the get the fly deep and “tease” the fish. They were a little lethargic, but I got some interest and capitalized on a weak moment. The water was crystal clear and as I was fighting the fish, an even larger fish was chasing it…almost had a twofer, but no such luck. When I finally had the fish in hand, I felt like a kid again. I suppose it was the time of year combined with my temperament, but at that moment it was the most beautiful fish in the world to me. Everything slowed down, I cracked a smile, and I am pretty darn sure that I was giggling. It was just what I needed. Everything came back into perspective…all was suddenly right in the world. I could return home to the wife unit, my soul replenished, content and ready to join civilization.

Now, time to change gears on you. Enough of that sappy crap…time to climb up on my soapbox and do a little ranting. My last few trips to the water have spotlighted how much trash there is lying around. I guess in the winter, you see more and it stands out like a sore thumb. Nonetheless, it is UGLY! Litter has always bugged me to the point of near insanity (some of my acquaintances would suggest that I am already there) and I recognize that some of it is accidental. However, much of it is created but ignorant, stupid, lazy, sub-human, moronic miscreants. If you want to know how I really feel about, I would be happy to share more with you. Anyway, I have two take homes for you – if you are one of those folks that litter, please stop. If I catch you doing it, out comes my can of Whoop Ass, and it will be game over. So…STOP littering…immediately! Secondly, if you are out in the woods, pick up all the litter you see and bring it out. Maybe even bring a small trash bag in your vest (or pocket) and make it a habit to pick up all you can carry on the way out. Leave it better than you found it. The Native Americans did…we should follow in their footsteps. It really is a small and random act of kindness that goes a long way. Not to mention, if you get rid of the litter, you won’t have to listen to me complain. There is even the possibility that I get to return to my “happy place”.

You think about that…TL

LEANING TO THE LEFTY (KREH, THAT IS…)

2009-03-10T13:53:00.001-05:00

“Knowledge is to be shared, not displayed.” – Lefty Kreh

Over the years, I have had the opportunity to meet the Legend several times, but never the chance to hear him speak all day. I was anxiously awaiting his trip to the Ozark Fly Fishers all day meeting in February and when I heard that he could not make it, I was very disappointed (Ed Jaworowski came in his stead and he did a pretty fine job). I am not sure why Lefty could not make it, but I do think that anybody who has more than four score under their belt can do just about any dang thing they want. Maybe Lefty can make it next year. I certainly hope so. Lefty is the big jewel in the crown of fly fishing and there is only one of him. An Australian magazine referred to Lefty as "one of America's national treasures." He has been honored around the world and sought after for speaking engagements from the Far East to New York City. He is characterized by his unique fishing hat with ear flaps…I bought one like it and look like a fool when I wear it…Lefty slaps it on and he just looks cool in it.

You most likely know quite a bit about Lefty Kreh. He has been involved in much they innovation and evolution of fishing with the long rod. He has been an ambassador for fly fishing internationally and, at the end of the day; he is one of, if not THE, most entertaining characters among us. He is a special gift that we have enjoyed for decades. His spirit, his attitude, his ingenuity, and his “life well lived” is an inspiration to us all. Having said that, what I am about to share with you is some things you may not know about Lefty.

There aren’t many folks who get their own postage stamp…but then, there aren’t many Lefty Kreh’s. His Lefty's Deceiver fly was reproduced and named on a United States postage stamp. If that weren’t enough, Lefty has an anthrax strain named after him – BVK-1 (as in Bernard Victor Kreh – known to us as “Lefty”) – that he contracted at Fort Detrick. His two co-workers did not survive the incident. An accomplished outdoorsman and naturalist, while he was in his army training, he identified and spotted some Ivory Bill Woodpeckers near Camp Shelby. At the time, no-one believed him, but recent sightings have proved he was most likely right. He served in World War 2 during the height and heat of battle and escaped death many a time. The horrors he witnessed during the war and his battlefield bravery shaped much of his character. Lefty’s upbringing – the oldest of four children that lost their father to an accident during the height of the Depression – was the foundation of a gritty and determined soul. In essence, Lefty has been forged in the fire and is the poster boy for “what doesn’t kill you, makes you stronger.” I don’t know about you, but this guy is one of my heroes and I truly look up to him. On the lighter side, he got his nickname by pitching, hitting, and shooting with his left hand, but he dribbles, passes, and plays billiards right handed. He can cast a fly rod with either hand, and do it damn well, thank you very much. And, if that weren’t enough, Lefty can toss a metal washer up in the air and shoot a bullet through the hole. Really. No, really!

A Lefty Kreh along comes along once every so often. It is a monumental and time changing event. Enjoy it while you can. And if you run into Lefty, tell him you love him. Thanks for everything, Lefty. We appreciate it. You think about that…TL

KEEP YOUR STIMULUS…GIVE ME A STIMULATOR!

2009-02-08T14:35:00.006-06:00

I have to beg the forgiveness of my readers as I begin my random thinking…I try to keep myself on the topic of the great outdoors, first and foremost fishing, and even more to the point, fly fishing. Every now and again (okay, maybe more often than that), I stray a bit and for that I apologize. Even worse, occasionally I dip into the well of politics and religion (which I really do try to avoid) and this winter I have had a difficult time containing myself. It has been, after all, an election season and we have a whole new team in Washington, D.C., and it has been the focus of attention for many. With every new election cycle, whether your team won or lost, there is a sense of anxiousness…perhaps hope, or uncertainty, or some other emotion that each of us goes through. This year in particular has churned things up a bit…we all lost money in our investment accounts…some have lost their jobs…many of us have lost our confidence in a number of things…scary times, these are. We also wonder what the implications for the conservation cause will be and we hope for the best and work hard for the worst. The times they are a changing…

Our new President, Barrack Obama said during his inauguration speech, “We have chosen hope over fear.” Within 2 weeks of taking office, he said, “A failure to act, and act now, will turn crisis into a catastrophe.” From hope to catastrophe in two weeks…are you kidding me? This is the candidate of change that Americans voted for. As his cabinet nominees have been exposed for income tax evasion, we “ordinary people” (his words, not mine) could never get away with that stuff. One of our past Presidents, Ronald Reagan said, "Government is not a solution to our problem, government is the problem." I don’t know if you liked the “Gipper” or not, but I have never been a big fan of big government. When I was a young man (a long, long time ago) I read the book Atlas Shrugged, by Ayn Rand (first published in 1957) and it really changed my thinking on personal responsibility, capitalism, the force of government, and what fly I should select when I am streamside (well…maybe not…not really). This book actually used to be required reading in the schools where I grew up. I know a number of people that name it as one of the most influential books in their life and I would encourage you to read it. In fact, I challenge you to read it and drop me a line on what you think about it. Warning…the book is over a thousand pages, but it is worth the read. I think most reasonable people can agree in a government that is responsible, accountable, and at the very least efficient.

So, the geniuses in Washington, D.C. (see my rant on throwing the bums out last fall) have all the answers to our problems…have no fear…the government is here. Drum roll please…gigantic, obese, government bailout (the so called “Stimulus” plan) So, I says to myself, “myself…what are these people thinking?” I was getting my car worked on at the shop the other day and had a conversation with the “ordinary people” in the waiting area…everyone thought this thing did not make a lot of sense. People are wondering if it will really do any good. As of this writing, the total is more than $800 Billion. Most Americans oppose it…the amount of “pork” spending in it is absurd…if you don’t believe me, look at this partial list:
•$850 million for Amtrak.
•$650 million for the digital television convertor box coupon program.
•$600 million to buy hybrid vehicles for federal employees.
•$500 million for repairing the National Institutes of Health facilities in Maryland.
•$246 million tax break for Hollywood movie producers.
•$200 million for alternative energy vehicles for the military.
•$150 million for the Smithsonian museum.
•$150 million for livestock insurance.
•$110 million to the Farm Service Agency for computer systems.
•$88 million for the Coast Guard to design a new polar icebreaker.
•$75 million for “smoking cessation activities”.
•$10 million to inspect canals in urban areas.

I could go on, but you get the point. These things may be reasonable on their own merit (although I really doubt it), but not in this bill. The most disturbing thing to me is the money that they doled out earlier, only to find it was not being used properly, and then watching our leaders express outrage after the fact. I think that tells you all you need to know. And now, they want more…and more…and more. This will help the economy as much as me sending a letter (instead of calling) to the fire department when my house caught on fire. Too little and too late.

Now ladies and gentlemen…here is Ty’s plan – I am calling my version of the bailout, the Local Economy Stimulator Plan. Each and every fly fishing person in our community needs to do the following; plan your next trip (and soon!) – even if it is only a day trip…go down to your local fly shop and gear up…purchase plenty of tippet and flies (in particular the Stimulator – I like mine in a sizes 12 and 14 in orange), and go fishing. Enjoy yourself, drink some scotch, smoke a cigar, laugh with a friend, and if you are so inclined, catch and release. Forget about all of this other nonsense for a little while and have some fun. It will still be there when you get back. You think about that…TL

Here's To The Good Guys!

2008-11-29T20:47:00.005-06:00

In my last column I was on a rant (and a little rave…or some might say rage) and a good friend of mine suggested I should change the name of my column to “Tyrade” (correctly spelled tirade)…not a bad idea and I will take it under consideration. However, the election is now behind us and we all need to move forward with our lives. If you don’t like the way things turned out, get involved in the process. As citizens we have an obligation to do that…we can all make a difference. Let’s not get too cynical (preaching to myself, here). A New Year is upon us…a fresh start…time to focus on future and live in the present. Do I hear Halleluiah, Amen? Make it your best year ever.

Now, time to change gears on you. I wanted to focus some energy on a few people that have made a huge difference in the fly fishing community…or also known as “the good guys (and gals)”. This past few months have we have lost several or our friends that have literally helped to “change the world”.

In 1999, I had the good fortune of attending the Fly Fishing Federation national conclave and as a result, got to meet Mel Krieger and see him receive the Ambassador Award. This honor is presented annually to the fly fisher who meets certain high standards of sportsmanship, fishing skill and stream side etiquette in taking and conserving game fish internationally. He most certainly deserves it. I was able to get to know him and his wife Fanny a little and I was very impressed with Mel and his commitment to all things good in the fly fishing world. He was not only one of the most proficient casters and teachers, but he was much more complex than that – a combination of a poet, historian, world traveler, artist, conservationist, and much, much more – truly a Renaissance Man if there ever was one. He was the recipient of several other awards. Passion and compassion just oozed out of the guy…sadly, he left us on October 7th, 2008. Eighty great years of giving it all he had. We will miss him…a bunch.

Ed Story – when you hear the name, you just think “class act” and all around great guy…a gentleman in the purest sense of the word. I know that I have personally caught more fish on a Crackleback than any other fly in my boxes (and I have a whole lot of flies in my boxes – half of which I have no idea what they are or where I got them) and it is my favorite fly to tie. That was only one of Ed’s many creations, but it was a doozey. Thanks for sharing, Ed. Everyone Ed met became a friend…he was always willing to share an idea, to teach, and to inspire. His enthusiasm and love for our sport and conservation literally made the Land of Fly Fishing a better place to visit. The Feather-Craft mail order catalogue has a huge following, including celebrities and other famous folk from around the globe. The personal commentary from Ed made it that much more enjoyable (“I love this item and would not fish without it” – Ed) and thousands of people have looked forward to their next issue for many years. Little known was the fact that Ed was also a very big supporter of Project Healing Waters and a veteran himself – his shop sold more PHW gear than anyone else in the country, with a portion of the sale going directly back to the program. Most importantly, Ed was a family man…I know his family will miss him tremendously. He moved on to better waters August of 2008. I want to offer a big thank you to the Story family for sharing this wonderful guy with us. He touched so many of us in a very special way…his legacy will live on.

We lost another hero and good friend this year that had touched many lives and most certainly has left the world better than he found it. George Purvis…a name probably not known to many of you, but a huge champion of the conservation cause nonetheless. George left us on August 15th at the age of 83. We met through some mutual friends in the 1960’s and I remember being impressed with the number of things he was working on at the time. George was a pioneer that committed his life to a number of initiatives that have positively and profoundly impacted the state of Arkansas – particularly with regard to hunting and fishing. He was totally dedicated to improving the state of conservation and was known for his ethics and commitment to educating folks. He was a writer, an artist, a photographer, produced and starred in videos, had his own radio show, and published a magazine for the state. His work involved a multitude of different media. He loved duck hunting, but was also known to fish. If you enjoy the great outdoors in Arkansas on occasion, you probably owe George a little gratitude. Husband, Father, Grandfather…an outdoorsman in every sense of the word. Thanks, George.

There were others that we lost this past year and will dearly miss. We still have many heroes among the living that are making a difference. I have two take homes for all of you…first, take a moment and think about who your heroes are…those people that have made a profound impact on your life…those people that have touched you or those around you in a special way…those that have handled themselves with style and grace…those that have served others so faithfully…taught you, motivated you, challenged you, or cared about you…how lucky are we to have them. Tell them you appreciate them and thank then for what you have done. Secondly, aspire to be one of them…we need more heroes in this world…set your sights high and reach for that goal. You can do both of those things. You think about that…TL

A Gross Violation of the Public Trust

2008-10-06T21:07:00.007-05:00

"The mystery of government is not how Washington works, but how to make it stop." - P. J. O'Rourke

I had no intention of writing a column about politics and the upcoming election this month, for crying out loud, however, I just can’t help myself. If you are not mad as hell right now, there really is something wrong with you. The recent debacle that occurred on Wall Street and in Washington D.C. is trickling down all the way to Main Street. It really has nothing to do with whether you have lost money or not (although, my guess is most of you have) and it does not matter at all what your politics are. I am not going to do any finger pointing nor give you a lengthy explanation of why this happened. It has happened and it is what it is. But I am going to offer a suggestion for what we can do about it.

My recommendation is that we throw the bums out. Every stinking one of them. NOW!

There is an amazing phenomenon that occurs in this great country of ours. Most Americans don’t like Congress but they like their Congressman. Therein lies the problem. We are suckers for a multi million dollar campaign. Both sides lie…they prey on our fear…they convince us that they are “it”…we usually have two choices…and we end up picking the lesser of two evils. I truly believe that it is time for a legitimate third party in this country but that is a discussion for another day. I also hope that each and every one of you will get out and vote…as an American citizen, it is your duty.

One of the stories that caught my eye just before the $700 Billion Bailout was the discussion by our esteemed leaders that they did not want it called a “bailout” but rather they wanted it to be called a “rescue” because they didn’t like the way bailout sounded. Are you kidding me? These morons in the Beltway created and allowed this mess and then they want to make sure that it sounds like they are doing something good for us. I think it should be called the “The Great Train Robbery of the American Citizens” but that is only one man’s opinion. Frankly, I would like to see some criminal charges in the midst of this whole thing and I can damn guarantee you that if you do enough digging you will find them. What I find most remarkable is the fact that the same people who don't know quite how this all happened think that they know how to fix it. Just a short while ago they were all tied up with hearings on steroids in baseball. Are you kidding me?

Okay, so here we are, in the middle of blog about fishing, conservation, and other stuff, listening to this old coot rant and rave about politics. What does this have to do with fishing, you ask? Well, a few things and I ask that you hang with me for just a moment.

Number one, choose your candidates wisely. Don’t make the assumption that just because your candidate belongs to a certain party that they even remotely represent you and your beliefs. You have to do your homework and you need to be wise and think. If you vote straight ticket, that is intellectually lazy. To my point, there were career politicians on both sides of the aisles that have blood on their hands on this recent financial collapse. Watch what they do, not just what they say. Hold them accountable. They are counting on you liking them, even if you don’t like Congress. What is going to take for you to see through the smoke and mirrors? We need to know where the candidates stand on issues near and dear to our hearts – and for outdoorsmen and outdoorswomen, one of those issues is conservation.

Number two, for goodness sakes, don’t take any of this too seriously. Only sweat the things that you are in control of. You can control your vote, but not the person you vote for. You can vote them in office, or better yet, you can vote them out of office if you can muster the courage. But, the truth is, you have better things to do with your time. More importantly, you can make the time to go fishing and count your blessings…I know you have them…I know because I have them too. And me, I am going fishing and I am going to light up my favorite cigar and start counting. I hope you will join me. Drop me a line and share with me your own personal bailout plan. You think about that…TL

The King's Game - To Whom Does It Belong?

2008-08-03T12:30:00.006-05:00

A recent discussion with an old friend got me to thinking (generally a very dangerous thing). He had moved to the Northeast United States a number of years ago and is an avid fly fisherman and upland bird hunter. Not only is he a committed outdoorsman and conservationist, but he happens to raise and train some of the finest bird dogs I have ever been in the presence of. I have shared many a delicious meal with him consisting of pheasant and quail served with wild rice and gravy and I must tell you, it is something to remember. In a recent conversation, he was grumbling about all of the new development in his neck of the woods and how most of the land that he had hunted and fished the majority of his adult life had been developed into homes or private hunting and fishing clubs. It is a reality in our modern world, but heartbreaking nonetheless.

This brings up the sticky issue of the privatization and monetizing of our natural resources. Now, I have been around a long time, but not long enough to have come over to this country on a ship from England with the Colonists. I was actually born here. There are some of my buddies who think I am older than dirt, but I just so happen to out-fish all of them. Anyway, private land ownership is an important part of this country, but so is the protection of our natural resources for the public good. I am neither a lawyer nor a politician, and I am also not independently wealthy. Consequently, I am no expert on the “rules” and I can’t buy my way into private land access. What I can do is “rant and rave” a bit and share my two cents with anyone who will listen.

The beginnings of wildlife law can be traced back to principles that were in early Roman law. The general idea was the wild animals do not have owners and they belonged to the person that could capture or kill them. Consequently, taking wildlife was considered a personal right. However, personal rights depend upon those in charge (or put another way, the government) and have been either enjoyed, or endured. Beginning just after 400 A.D. and up unto the Norman times, England was a succession of kings. Typically, they had an interest in the land and all of its wildlife with an extremely selfish motive. In their view, the wildlife belonged to the king and he maintained all sovereignty over the land and the wild animals and would grant permission to hunt. In Europe, wildlife continued to be seen as the property of the elite. In 1389, there was a decree issued that stated the pursuit of game was limited to those that owned the land. Non-landowners could not even possess dogs or equipment used in taking game. A feud between those of privilege and the common people was in full force. This was one of the very reasons that led to our founding fathers leaving England.

When our ancestors came to North America, they found a place that was full of fish and game, and other bountiful natural resources, that had provided for the Native Americans for thousands of years. The early Colonists hunted and fish freely and felt it their natural right to do so. One of the founding philosophies was the equality and freedom of men. Liberty from the control of kings was about individual freedom and self-government. Water, fish and wildlife are not mentioned in our founding documents but it was an important building block for our new country. Here is what somebody a whole lot more famous than me; and most likely a whole lot smarter than me had to say about it:

"Above all, we should realize that the effort toward this end is essentially a democratic movement. It is…in our power…to preserve game…for…all lovers of nature, and to give reasonable opportunities for the exercise of the skill of the hunter, whether he is or is not a man of means."

– Theodore Roosevelt, 1893

What is my point? Ladies and gentlemen, we must fight aggressively for the public trust and the common man. Capitalism is wonderful and should be encouraged in this free land of ours. But we must also work hard to drive a consciousness of “shared grace” that extends to “everyman”. If we don’t stay diligent about that, it may not be there for us to enjoy with the exception of a few. And me, I never want to be one of “them” – the elite (I haven’t been invited in anyway). This country is too great to allow it to return full circle to the place we left for a bigger dream. There is too much blood buried in our ground to let that happen. It may not matter to you, but I can guarantee it will matter to future generations. You think about that…TL

Beware the Inebriated Armadillo!

2008-07-08T17:22:00.005-05:00

If you encounter this creature, walk backwards very slowly…do not make eye contact…and turn and run for the hills. They are known to be unpredictable, and their behavior can border on aggressive and sometimes violent. If there is a shortage of long-neck beer in your neighborhood, look no further than the southwestern cousin of our beloved opossum, the armadillo. These little critters have been moving up from the southwest toward the north and have been headed our way for some time. It must be related to global warming and a need to escape some of the brutal heat down there. The dead giveaway on their origins is their Texas accent – it gives them away every time. Never matter…here they come and you better get ready. Just take a drive down the highway and you will see them splattered…I mean scattered…everywhere.

I know what you are thinking…what in God’s name is this nut bag, Ty Livingstone, talking about? What is your point, man? On a recent trip to northern Arkansas, my fishing guide and I were tooling down a country highway in his pickup, towing our drift boat, and we came along a sight to behold. An armadillo that had been knocked unconscious (okay, it was dead…and it was more likely vehicular mammal-slaughter) and it was lying flat on its back, feet up in the air. Some kind soul had strategically placed a beer bottle on its underbelly (I am sure it was to help ease the pain from the accident) and it appeared to be drinking from the bottle. It really hit my funny bone and I laughed hysterically for a while, followed by intermittent giggling throughout the day. It was just plain funny. The guide informed me that this was a new “tradition” in the area and that you will start to see this sight everywhere. I am not positive, but I somehow think the opossum are involved. There are also some conspiracy theorists that suggest the raccoons may have a hand in this also.

This has been an interesting year for many of us…maybe not so fun, but interesting nonetheless. This will be a bruising election year with probably few winners (even among the winners). We are faced with real issues – serious inflation – food, gas, and other stuff is going up, up, up with no end in sight. There are lots of negative things going and if you let it get to you, it just won’t do you any good. You have to find a way to deal with things and some plain old-fashioned humor is a pretty good place to start. My friends down in the Ozarks have long been famous for turning manure into apple butter. I see the armadillo and beer bottle marriage to be a continuation of that theme. You take road kill and add trash and you come up with a pretty strange sight that can make folks chuckle for a moment. I am not happy about the dead animal and nobody hates litter more than me, but the combination is just down right funny. If that makes you mad, well I am truly sorry (not really…not deep down inside I’m not…). There is always tragedy in our world but looking at things a different way can change your view. It is really all about perspective.

So, what exactly is my point? Lighten up…take a chill pill…have a laugh…don’t take yourself or life too seriously. It could be worse…you could be an armadillo. Me? I am going to go for a long walk, watch a sunset, and have a cold adult beverage. I might even sit down tonight and watch my favorite comedy…maybe have a few laughs. You think about that…TL

To Whom Do We Owe This Freedom We Enjoy?

2008-06-06T20:41:00.003-05:00

Sometimes in life, things occur to me that strike me as genius, only to find out that I have discovered the most obvious things that all of my friends and family already knew. Often these revelations happen to be an idea that my young grandchildren (usually the ones under ten) knew all along. Either I am really slow, or they are just very wise. Perhaps it is a combination…I really don’t know.

One of these recent flashes of brilliance (or not!) came to me after a recent club meeting for Ozark Fly Fishers in St. Louis. They moved the meeting location and I got lost on the way there and almost bailed and went home. They were featuring a speaker from the Missouri Department of Conservation on the new fishing program for kids. I wanted to hear what she had to say so I was hell-bent on finding the meeting place. I got there, a little late, but made it. I always like to hear about things that get kids out fishing. I enjoyed her presentation but there was a special surprise at the meeting that I did not know about until I got there.

There was a young man by the name of Ken Morrow that gave a presentation on a program called Project Healing Waters. I had heard of this but I am ashamed to admit that I knew very little about it. Mr. Morrow gave a very good presentation and he showed a video that touched me very deeply. He is a disabled veteran himself having done several tours and is now retired from the military. He is participating in this program as a volunteer, serving as the Regional Coordinator for the Southern Region. Ken lives in Springfield, Missouri and I found him to be a very pleasant and enthusiastic fellow. In the video that Ken played for us hearing about a soldier that was brought back from the brink of darkness by fly fishing really hit me hard in the gut. It was a powerful message and I am really glad to know that Ozark Fly Fishers is going to get behind the program. If you go their web-site (http://www.projecthealingwaters.org/) you can find out more, view some video (they were even featured on ESPN!), and see their sponsors and some of their board members. FFF and Trout Unlimited have both made a commitment to them and you can even donate money from the site if you so choose.

Across the Atlantic Ocean, there is a little coastal village in France called Colleville-sur-Mer, next to an area in the Normandy region, which, once upon a time was referred to as Omaha Beach. In this village, there is an American cemetery that contains row upon row of identical white crosses and stars of David. They are immaculately kept and they commemorate the American soldiers that gave their lives in World War II. If you ever have a chance to visit this special place, you will never be the same.

What was my thought that should have been so obvious? It was this: The freedom that I enjoy has not been free. Blood has been shed across the globe for my family – me, my wife, my children, my grandchildren, and those not even born yet. We owe a great big thank you to those who have so faithfully served our great country and its citizens. When I sit by my fireplace on a cold winter evening sipping a glass of single malt scotch, dreaming of a good cigar, flipping through my favorite fishing book and petting my faithful bird dog, it is awfully easy to take all of that goodness for granted. I look forward to helping out with Ozark Fly Fishers and the Project Healing Waters. I want to support those that have had my back all these years. I hope you will consider it as well. It is the least we can do. You think about that…TL

Don't Throw the Dog Out With the Bathwater

2008-05-10T08:06:00.003-05:00

I probably should not admit this, but I am partial to dogs. My friends that love cats might get mad at me, but I hope that they can see past my bent and still accept me for who I am. I was attacked by a wild farm cat as a child in Iowa and I have deep psychological scars…but that is a whole ‘nother story. I am a dog lover…always have been…always will be…and I am highly partial to big dogs and bird dogs. Of all the dogs I have owned over the years, a German Shorthair named Hemmingway dredges up some of the fondest memories for me. He was both a bird chaser and loved to fish (at least hang out with me while I fished…he had a hard time holding a fly rod). He and I had one distinct difference – he liked cats…but I never held it against him. What a creature he was. And, I don’t think he held it against me.

Now that I have been “waxing poetic”, I am going to shift gears and kick into random rant mode. I had my grandkids over the other evening and we went for a short walk around the neighborhood. In the cul de sac near my house, there was one of those plastic grocery store bags that people wear as a glove when cleaning up after man’s best friend (to scoopa da poopa), so kindly filled with animal waste and tied up, AND LEFT BY THE LAMPPOST! So, I picked it up and carried it home and tossed it in my trash. A few days later, I was out for a walk and, lo and behold, what did I see but the same sight on the street at the edge of our storm sewer. I picked up that one and put it in the trash too. Now, what in the hell am I to make of this? Is this dog crap, or more aptly put, CRAPPY DOG OWNERS?! This is one of those things that really force you to downgrade your opinion of humanity. These folks were conscientious enough to scoop the poop, but despicable enough to toss that plastic bag of trash into the public domain. If I catch one of them doing it there will be hell to pay. This feisty old fart will pull out his spray-can of “whoop-ass” out and settle it the old fashioned way. I can damn guarantee you that. This random act of idiocy by a fellow pet owner is like the thief that steals your wallet, removes the cash and mails your driver’s license back to you. I just don’t get it.

The next complaint I have about these “crappy dog owners” is the genre that does not even bother to exercise and walk their pets. Getting a dog seemed like a really cool idea at the time, but, oh, what a hassle. So rather than doing the right thing, they stick their dogs out in the backyard to run around and bark. Unfortunately, these same folks seem to acquire unusually stupid (that are usually trained horribly) dogs that bark at everything (including roly-poly’s…known as sow-bugs in the Ozarks) and eventually end up with a severe case of laryngitis. It strikes me that perhaps stupid owners are attracted to stupid dogs. For crying out loud, if you want to get a dog, then train it and care for it. If you don’t want to go to those efforts, then be kind to the animal and let someone who does care take it home.

Which brings me to my closing thoughts…I really have loved my dogs over the years and have taken the best care of them that I could and if you decide to get a pet, love it and love it right. Having said that, I don’t get the trend today with buying insurance for animals, doing major surgery (hip replacements) on them, and even putting braces on the critters. It just strikes me as really, really weird. When I was a kid on the farm, when a dog was in bad shape, we did the most humane thing we could and took it out in the middle of nowhere and put it out of its misery – it was the humane thing to do. Honestly…we did it out of love. My friends that are animal rights activists are going to get really mad at me, but I think we ought to be taking care of people first…but maybe we make an exception for those crappy dog owners. You think about that…TL

Seek First To Understand, Then To Be Understood...

2008-04-08T20:41:00.005-05:00

I am not sure what my problem has been lately, but damn have I been cranky. I have not been out fishing enough and I have been sick and tired of the rainy, wintry weather. In the middle of all of that everyone around me seems to be down too. As I reflected inward, I wondered if it was just me. Maybe…but I don’t think so.

Because I was so moody, I was overly sensitive to lots of negativity around me. I noticed conflict among my friends, fighting in my family, and lots of critical comments by those around me regarding others. It bothered me…I mean really, really bothered me. Life is too short…way too short. And then, I was at a meeting with some friends of mine a few weeks ago and they started making disparaging comments about a young fella in attendance that had on some funky clothes, a scraggly beard, and a head full of hair. Their attitude really aggravated me…who the heck do they think they are? Whether we remember it or not (and most of my friends don’t remember much of anything and what they do remember is embellished exaggerated baloney…you know what I am talking about!) many of us used to be “that guy”. Oh, the 40’s had rayon dresses and viscose suits, in the 50’s it might have been jeans rolled up and ducktails, the 60’s had its “hippie” stage, the 70’s acid rock, the 80’s Madonna (yuck!), and so on. What’s my point? Every generation has their thing. News flash – inside of those clothes, hair, and skin is a HUMAN BEING! Just because somebody is different than you does not mean you are better. If you have a problem with that, drop me a line.

Open your mind. If you were to take a minute and get to know that person that doesn’t fit into your teeny weenie box, you might just find out they are more like you then you could imagine. We really need to look for the best in each other. Forgive and forget. Live and let live. Learn and love. Seek first to understand, then to be understood. God gave you two ears and one mouth…if you are really lucky, he might have even granted you style and grace. Every transaction in life presents you with an opportunity to make a difference in somebody else’s life – for better or worse. The choice is yours.

I found out last week that an old friend of mine just passed away. I saw him in the fall and he looked great. He was working on a lifelong project that was his grand vision and it was actually coming together in a very exciting way. He was full of passion, piss and vinegar. He was fired up and his dream was starting to come true. It was a project of mega proportions. In January, unbeknownst to me, he was diagnosed with esophageal cancer and this past week he has moved on to his next adventure. I am really going to miss him. Godspeed, my friend.

At long last, this past weekend we actually had some nice sunny weather and I am crawling out of my funk. I hope the rest of you are too. Go out and do something nice for somebody else. It might just cheer you up. And remember, maybe, just maybe, it’s not about you. Noodle on that one boys...noodle on that one. What do my points have to do with fishing? More than you might realize. You think about that…TL

Wading In Over My Head

2008-03-09T14:21:00.003-05:00

I was out fishing this past week, by myself, in a remote area on an Ozark stream, all by myself and thoroughly enjoying the solitude. I ran into deer, eagles, raccoons, wild turkey, some muskrat, and even had the good fortune of acquainting myself with a few wild fish. It was a well needed day out; a mental health outing, an attitude adjustor, nourishment for my soul. I had been plagued by cabin fever like most everyone else and really needed to make the time. It was a cold day, but I was dressed for it and the cold weather gave me a good excuse to tap my flask of sipping whiskey for warmth. Life was good…really good.

Except for one small problem – no-one has ever confused me with being the sharpest tool in the shed and I have also had a notorious reputation as an aggressive wader when fly fishing. My problem is my inability to focus on more than one thing at a time. When I start seeing fishy water, I head toward it and “Katy, bar the door!” What happens after that is anybody’s guess and on more occasions than I care to admit, I have put myself in a “less than ideal” situation. So…back to my recent fishing outing…the temperature was around 25 degrees (which is fine if you are dry and dressed appropriately) and the water was up due to the recent snow and rain. Even though the water levels were a few feet up, it was fishable and wade-able (for those of you intelligent enough to know your limits). I was wading toward the bank and the riverbed started coming up and I assumed (you know the old adage about assuming…I achieved it) that it would continue that way. However, there was a big hole between the bank and me and I waded in over the top of my waders and, whoosh, water down to my toes and up through my panty hose (well, my skivvies, actually). I was baptized and achieved the status of “dumb-ass”. My mother would not be proud and my wife was furious with me when I got home. I had to walk several miles back to my car and was a little chilly when I got there. Cranking the heat on the way home and a little McDonald’s coffee went a long way. The hot shower back at the ranch saved me. I survived to tell the tale.

This is not the first time I had made this mistake and I have a sneaking suspicion that it will not be the last. I have a reputation among my fishing buddies for doing the foolish and I think they enjoy laughing at me and not with me. I am starting to rethink my wading practices. I heard a story about Lee Wulff swimming in full waders to prove that you wouldn’t drown, but I don’t think I am half the man that Mr. Wulff was and I really don’t want to die on the river…at least not yet.

Which brings me to my random thought and point of my story – I think wading in over my (our) waders is a metaphor for life. It is something that we just shouldn’t do and if we do, it may have some very serious consequences. I was just reading a story in the news about some of the mortgage market collapse due to our pending recession and the potential for a government bail-out. The banks made plenty of stupid (reckless) loans and buyers got greedy. They featured a couple that had purchased a home that cost more than a million ($1,000,000) dollars when they both had high flying jobs when they purchased the house. One of them lost their job and they can no longer afford to make the payment. A proposed bail-out program would give them a break and forgive part of their note to “save” them and help them keep their house. Here is my proposed program – “DON”T BUY A HOUSE YOU CAN”T AFFORD!” or put in us fishing folks language – “DON’T WADE IN OVER YOUR WADERS!”. I have no sympathy for those folks…travel light and only buy that which you can afford. I think they need to hit up a rich uncle or something (and his name is not Sam). Now, you might be thinking, “Ty, you sound like a hypocrite to me…you wade aggressively all the time…at your own peril on occasion.” True…I do. But you won’t hear me crying for help and I will own up to the stupidity of my own decisions. If I had a nickel for every time I have made a stupid mistake, I would be able to pay cash for that million dollar home. But I don’t and I won’t. You think about that…TL.

How Big Is Your Box?

2008-02-01T20:48:00.002-06:00

I must have been in a trance…hypnotized by the sound of money jingling in my pocket…lulled into a dream state by the “Siren’s Song”. What was I thinking? What am I talking about? Here is the scene; this holiday season I went to the world’s biggest BIG BOX (starts with a “W”) in search of a gift and bought my wife a new-fangled DVD player (it even plays the ancient technology known as VHS on the same unit). I asked the department manager for help and got Mr. Snot Nosed Technology Genius That Thinks Everyone Else is a Moron (especially me). After putting up with his psychological abuse, I found the unit that I thought we needed. I asked him if it would work with our set-up at home. He responded, “it should if the coaxilator connects to the discombobulator and runs through the hemointoxinator – but make sure you have the sidewinded domathingahicky fed to the back of the unit.” I said, “No problem” and went home utterly depressed. Christmas comes…she opens the gift…loves it…questions whether it will work or not so she can tape and watch her shows…and I say, “No problem” (for the second time). I got to hook it up and nothing works. Perfect. What I do next finds me guilty of the crime and I stand convicted. I run up the nearest Radio Shack (small box) and tell the manager there of my dilemma. I explain what is wrong and he proceeds to tell me I need the Turbo Charged Cable Regulator Instigator (or something like that), goes and gets it and scores the sale. As I was paying, I see a stack of DVD players off to the side and I sheepishly ask, “Oh, you guys have those here?” and he says, proudly, “Yes!” I should have bought it there in the first place. What I received was a good attitude, simple answers and solutions, and service with a smile. When I get home, I hook it up and, viola, it works. What is that worth? Plenty!

Look…I like a deal as much as the next guy. But I also know that you can be haunted by the “get what you pay for” program. We live in a culture that has become addicted to those big boxes and there is a price to pay. It has happened in a number of industries (think hardware stores, sporting goods stores, department stores, and much more) and it dramatically changes the landscape of our communities. Look around you…look hard. It is not a pretty sight. Now look to your local fly shop. The same thing has happened in the fly fishing industry (and hunting, and other outdoor pursuits).

When Trout Unlimited and The Federation of Fly Fishers were spreading across the country and adding clubs and chapters decades ago, the local fly shop owners were usually one of the first to step in and commit their resources (time, money, donations…blood, sweat, and tears) to the cause. Many local clubs grew and thrived thanks to the selfless efforts of these unsung heroes. Ask around and you will find this to be true. How time forgets. I know this was true in our area and others as well. These entrepreneurs have worked very hard for many years building their businesses, only to have their business cannibalized by big competitors. And now, the Big Box Guys (C and B) show up at TU and FFF Headquarters looking for "partnerships", flex their muscles and get all kinds of love. It is tough out there and the least we can do is support our local fly shop. It is the right thing to do. They most certainly have an obligation to run a good shop, offer great products and service, and take care of the customer. But, assuming those things are true, we should be spending our money there.

The moral of the story – you get to pick the size of box that you want to shop (and live) in. It is most certainly a free country and the choice is yours. But, we all have to live with those choices and every decision that we make has a consequence – good or otherwise. All I am asking you to do is to think about the effects of those choices that you make. Please. Thank you. You think about that. TL

Competition - Does It Really Never Exist?

2008-01-01T11:57:00.002-06:00

At the risk or irritating some of my “codger” friends I want to open up the discussion (and some might say, the proverbial “can o’ worms) regarding competition in fly fishing. Fly fishing has always viewed itself above competition. It has been classified as a gentleman’s sport by many and the recent development of outdoor sports television (OLN, VS, the Outdoor Channel, etc.) has spawned some new fly fishing shows that feature…you guessed it…COMPETITION! Is this bad for the sport? You decide. I personally have no problem with it.

Which takes me to the category of these young guys in the sport – they are a new breed…driven by a love of the sport that borders on obsession – just check out all of the new videos (trout bums, etc…). Some of my “codger” buddies (said with the utmost of affection) don’t like these guys…they think they have attitude…hell, I wish I was their age all over again. It looks like fun to me. I think they are good for the sport and actually stand a chance of drawing more young folks into the sport (we say that is important…do we mean it?).

Which brings me to the concept of a “One Fly” competition…is this competition or something very different? One of the OFF members recently hosted a One Fly at the Bennett Springs Catch & Release Outing. I could not get my lazy butt out of bed that morning and dropped by the sign-up rather late (shame on me). I thought there might be a crowd, but unfortunately, nobody (or at least hardly anybody) showed up and the whole thing turned out to be a bust. Why? Who knows, but I heard some rumblings that it was because of the fact that the event was a competition. Competition? Gimme a break! It was a damn fundraiser. The reason I didn’t make it was because I am a slacker and I overslept. Shame on me and I hope the host can forgive me for that. Where did this whole one fly thing come from?

Which brings me to that…founded in 1986, The Jackson Hole One Fly Event is a celebration of fly fishing dedicated to the betterment of trout and trout habitat. Their Mission Statement is “To generate, manage and grant funding for projects which environmentally benefit the future of trout and fly fishing by annually sponsoring a three-day event uniting enthusiastic fly-fishers from around the world with premier regional guides who all endeavor to celebrate the joy and spirit of the sport during the fishing, social and fundraising activities of the event, and who throughout the year, promote that same joy and spirit of fly-fishing and the future of trout.” The proceeds from this event funds The Jackson Hole One Fly Capital Foundation (JHOFCF) - the non-profit organization that manages and leverages the funds raised from the One Fly Event to invest in trout stream habitat improvement projects. It seems to me to be a good thing.

Which brings me to my big point…if you ever come back to Trout Camp talking about how many fish you caught or how big they were, you have just entered into the “competition” arena. Oh, it might not be competition in the purest sense, but you really are keeping score. It really is not that big of a deal…it is all good. Be careful whom you judge and how you judge them. Stay humble…keep your mind open…just a few resolutions for a New Year. Things change…you can too…you think about that. TL

In Celebration of the Codger

2007-12-01T12:20:00.002-06:00

The Fat Man is Coming! In other words, Christmas is just around the corner and Santa Claus is coming to town. You would think after all these years; he might be sick of the routine and would get a little crabby. But somehow and someway, the old guy keeps coming and always maintains a smile. I haven’t actually seen him and I don’t know if he really is jolly, but I will believe and keep the legend rolling. But, that is another story for a different day. Speaking of the old guy in the red suit, that brings me to my point.

This month, I am pondering all “old guys” (and gals, but you don’t refer them as old, but rather selectively seasoned) and just what they mean to us. This is particularly poignant to me because I am one of them. I don’t like to admit it, but it is true. If you young whippersnappers will look very closely at our club and community, you will notice something very distinct. Generally speaking (meaning most of the time this is true, but not one hundred percent universally true), the seniors are doing most of the work. They are on the board, they are teaching the classes, they attend the conservation meetings, and on and on. We need to be very appreciative and tell them thanks for all the hard work.

Now, I must admit, we old guys can be cranky sometimes. We can be hard headed, ornery, stubborn, rude, eccentric, and the list goes on. Bottom line – we don’t mean nothing by it. It just kind of works out that way. I remember years ago when my grandfather was in his last days and I went to see him just before he passed. He was a tremendous outdoorsman – a fisherman and a bird hunter and was passionate about conservation. He was not feeling well toward the end and was really quite crabby. He expressed tremendous regret to me about his disposition and I was sympathetic due to his condition. I told him that he had lived an amazing life of integrity and generosity and service to others and that the accumulation of his good deeds far outweighed anything that he was suffering through at the end. And that is how it is and will be. He was an inspiration to many and still is.

My point – you old codgers (term used affectionately) have earned the right to be like that. Some of us may not like it, but we have to put it in perspective. They have fought the wars – WW2, Korea, and Viet Nam – that have provided us freedom. They have built the country that gives us so much back. We have streams and lakes to fish because they have fought hard for it. They have worked hard and saved for retirement. They have raised children, grandchildren, and in some cases great grandchildren. They volunteer lots and lots of their time for all of our benefit. They don’t have to, but they do. Are they perfect? No. Have they made a difference? Yes. Should we love them? Absolutely…in spite of themselves.

So, here’s to you Mr. Think I am Always Right, Do As I Damnwellplease, Wear Weird Clothes and Doesn’t Care Guy. Let’s crack open an ice cold Bud Light (or whatever your choice of adult beverage is). Thanks for everything! Keep up the great work. Happy Holidays…The Fat Man is Coming and let’s hope he’s jolly this year. And, if he’s not, let’s still embrace him.

You think about that. TL

Taking Care of Business (In a Natural Way)

2007-10-01T16:32:00.003-05:00

“The wildlife and its habitat cannot speak. So we must and we will.” - Theodore Roosevelt

Indeed, we must speak for the environment and its conservation. If we don’t who will? As important as speaking on its behalf is, the rubber hits the road when we do something. It is not what you say…it is what you do that really matters.

Bottled water…can we talk? I am putting a plea out there to run yourself down to your neighborhood outdoor store and spend seven dollars on a Nalgene bottle that you can use again and again and again and again. For less than the price of a case of bottled water at the local grocery store, you will have a lifetime supply of good water. The instructions are difficult to understand, but here goes: Fill…Refrigerate…Drink…Wash…Refill…Repeat…If you live in a place where the water supply is good (St. Louis has some of the best water quality in the United States according to some) then you really have no excuse, other than whatever excuse you might have. I am requesting you to consider conserving water. In the past 10 years, sales of bottled water have gone up to $10.6 billion. Those bottles are made from petroleum derivatives and it takes a whole lot of diesel fuel to ship that stuff around the country. In other words, the majority of the cost wrapped up in a bottle of water is packaging and freight. You can save money and help the conservation effort all in the same gulp. Your call…

God forsaken shopping malls…is it my imagination or have they paved paradise and put up a parking lot. I was driving through town this morning and I could not believe the amount of development of new malls on top of the old malls. Shop here, shop there…it all began with the original outdoor shopping mall at The Plaza in Kansas City. Then we had strip malls everywhere. Then we went to the cutting edge indoor mall capped off by the world’s biggest indoor mall – The Greater Mall of America in Minneapolis, Minnesota including a roller coaster and ice rink indoors. People would actually vacation there…are you kidding me? Now we are back to outdoor lifestyle malls (a lot like the original in Kansas City). If we evolve far enough, maybe there will be no malls again. One can only hope.

Cigarette trash…Hey, I have no problem with people that want to smoke…they are your lungs. I have been known to puff on a cigar with my single malt…to each his own. However, I have a news flash for you smokers – that filter at the end of your cig made from space age materials (cleans out that tar and nicotine so you don’t get quite the buzz…Camel unfiltered were my choice back in the day) is not biodegradable – it is trash! Please don’t toss it someplace that it shouldn’t be – the woods, the stream, the street, the grass, my driveway, and on and on. I see more empty packs of cigarettes and butts lying around than just about any form of litter and it really grinds on me. You don’t know what to do with those butts, you say. That is your problem…don’t make it mine.

Okay, enough ranting for one column. What can you do about it? A great place to start is the Mill Creek project – The Bohigan Conservation Area in the beautiful Missouri Ozarks. You can donate your time and you can donate your money. You can’t afford it? I challenge each and every one of you who have not given to the cause to give FIVE DOLLARS. Just one fin.

You think about that. TL

An Insult for Everyone

2007-06-01T16:38:00.001-05:00

My highly random thoughts this month are not at all about fishing, but they were inspired by a recent fishing trip. I thought this month I might go after a couple of different groups. What I anticipate happening is a price put on my head for my assassination. I will go into hiding when this column hits the newsletter and my good friends will wonder what happened to me. In the event that you think I am just paranoid (and I may be…wouldn’t you be paranoid if someone had a hit out on you), when you see who I am going after, you will understand.

First of all, it is important for you to understand that for many years I wanted a truck with four-wheel drive. For a large variety of reasons, I was never at a place in life that I could get one. Whether it was raising kids, work, budget, and on and on and on, I always had an excuse for myself. Then I came to a place in my life where I took the advice of Ferris Buhler, and I just said, “What the #&*!” and was done with it. I got my four-wheel drive and I haven’t looked back since. I feel like a kid in a candy store.

Having said that, I am firmly convinced that getting a four-wheel drive immediately decreases the IQ of that individual. Let me explain. I was out this past weekend on one of my favorite spring creeks that winds through some farmland about an hour from my house. I am able to get access to the water and the stream has some nice smallies and some pretty stubborn pan-fish in it. It had rained the day before and was sprinkling lightly that afternoon. The road that runs down to the valley was pretty muddy and I parked at the top of the hill and walked. I needed the exercise anyway. I had been out all afternoon hiking and fishing (and thoroughly enjoying myself) and had the good fortune of encountering a beautiful white-tail buck, a beaver, a mother wood duck, some red-tailed hawks, a beautiful blue indigo bunting, and even a few fish. I was on my way back to my truck and I ran into a guy and his two daughters in an old four wheel drive jeep. He had just gotten stuck in some mud (about a foot deep) and he told me he couldn’t believe it – after all, his vehicle was four-wheel drive. Duh.

You also have the Midwest snow or ice storm scenario where you are driving on the edge in a snow storm (maybe 45 to 50 miles per hour) and Joe Four-Wheel Drive comes by you going 85 miles per hour and a few miles up the road you see Joe in the ditch. Joe is scratching himself on the head and saying to himself, “Myself, I thought this was four-wheel drive…how did I end up in this ditch?” Duh. Point made. Memo to all four-wheel drive vehicle operators – you still have to drive intelligently…you do have an edge over those two-wheel drive sedan folks, but you are not driving a tank or a Humvee. Enough said.

Now, I move on to another American icon – the HOG style motorcycle. Vroom, vroom, vroom. On the way home from my fishing trip which inspired my attack on the four-wheel drive thing, I was a stoplight in a small town and a group of Harleys pulled up next to me at the intersection. While I was waiting for the light to turn green, they proceeded to show me how loud their engines could be and I was quite impressed. Actually, to be more accurate, it made quite an impression on me. When I was younger I rode motorcycles and it really is a blast. There is a sense of freedom that does not have much compare. However, I really don’t want to be subjected to your over the top dose of noise pollution. Hey, HOG folks; if you have an issue with size, they have medication and devices to help you with that. Keep it to yourself…the world will be better off for it. You do your thing and I will do mine…just try to not be so damn noisy.

Now that I have attacked four-wheel drive trucks and motorcycles, I should move on to mom and apple pie. However, I don’t want the price on my death to go to unnecessary heights. I am going to share a condo with Samon Rushdie until things cool down. I will be looking out for black helicopters. I might wear a hat, and dark sunglasses. I might even get one of those fake mullet ball caps so I can really travel incognito. I might just have to head out to the woods and live off of the land for a while. There are worse things in life. Who’s paranoid? I am not paranoid. They really are coming after me. But I know how to deal with it. I just need to go fishing.

You think about that. TL

A Melting Pot Are We

2007-05-01T16:36:00.002-05:00

Recently, at a couple of our meetings, I noticed a young whippersnapper entering the meeting late and sneaking quietly into the back of the room with a backpack. He unpacked his tying vise and materials, set up camp, and proceeded to tie flies on how own. He seemed to be thoroughly enjoying himself. He even continued to tie when the lights went out. He was tying flies by feel…he could have been a blind man the way he was spinning…I was inspired. I knew I was watching something very special. I don’t know his age (I might guess 14 or 15) and I don’t even know his name. But, I can see his heart…and he has lots of it. In a way, I am envious of his passion, but more importantly, I am moved by it. Thank you, young man.

And so, this event got me randomly thinking (which I happen to be rather proficient at…now they call it ADD or something like that, but back in my day, they just called it “squirrelly”) about the joy of fly tying. One of the unique aspects of our sport from other sports and activities, is the fact that we can be engaged in the “building” of the stuff that we use for our activity. There are a few other sports where people build the things they use (bow and arrows, an occasional lathed baseball bat, etc…but far and few between) but fly fishing has significantly more folks involved in the building of rods and the tying of flies. We become part of what we are doing. Not all fly fishermen tie their own flies and even less build their own rods (not to mention the narrow universe of bamboo rod builders) but overall, it is a fair amount.

Tying your own flies and catching a fish on a fly you tied is a very profound experience – at least it is for me. The first time I did such, I actually had a tear in my eye (but don’t tell anyone lest they think I am a sissy). I think this is a big deal. It drives commitment for the fly fisher person and gives you a personal investment in the sport. When you commit to fly tying, you are truly investing in yourself and it can be a life changing thing. There was a day, many moons ago, when you could not buy a commercially tied fly. You had to tie your own. Not only that, but you had to find the stuff that you were going to tie with. You used whatever in the heck you could get your hands on. The craft has been handed down, like a baton, from generation to generation and the exchange of ideas never ceases. Tying is a complete world unto itself within the sport of fly fishing. It creates a connection between people that transcends so many other things. That, my friends, is a good thing.

To the outsiders looking in, we probably look a little strange, sitting there in our hunch, spinning materials. And, let’s face it, the guys that wear the x-ray vision bi-focal magnifier helmets to tie size 42 midges look a little odd to someone not in the know. However, in the fly tying world they are the coolest of cool and us fly tiers actually look on them with jealousy and lust. It is a fly tier thing, you wouldn’t understand. If you tie, you get it…but if you don’t, admittedly we look weird. But the fire burns within. It is a little bit of art, a little bit of science, and for me, it beats sitting on the psychiatric couch. It really is therapy for me.

Like everything else, we fly tiers are a mixed bag of differences. This eclectic group has purists, progressives, radicals, traditionalists, dabblers, and die-hards, and a little bit of everything else. But, show up to a tying event, and you will see a group of friends with something in common having a damn good time. You might think about joining in if you haven’t yet. My mama knew what she was doing when she named me. Now, I just have to work hard to earn the name.

You think about that. TL

Chix Flix

2007-04-01T20:43:00.001-05:00

I am one of those guys that is not a big fan of going to a “Chick Flick” with my gal. I might have an ulterior motive when I do go, but I would never say that out loud (at least not with my gal around). But given the opportunity to have a root canal without anesthesia or watch a Chick Flick, I will choose Option A. It has to do with a trauma I experienced as a small child, but that is a whole other story.

Over the past 30 years, I have seen two Chick Flicks that were absolutely worth the effort. I would ask that you not tell any of my friends this confession. The first was the movie Chocolat, and it was a wonderful story about the human experience, love, grace, forgiveness, redemption, and cautions about being judgmental. If you have not seen that one, do yourself a favor and rent it (or for you forward thinking tech-heads, download it from Apple i-tunes or have it delivered by Netflix). But that movie has nothing to do with my comments this month. However, I recently attended the movie, Miss Potter, with my gal and I anticipated nothing but a miserable experience. I had promised I would take her and I had every intention of honoring that promise and I did. We went to the theatre, bought tickets, took my medication, sat in my seat and fastened my seatbelt for the ride.

The movie, Miss Potter is the true story of the children’s book author, Beatrix Potter, set around the turn of the 20th century in England. You may know her for her famous character Peter Rabbit. Not to bore you with too many details, but she is a single women, still living at home with her affluent “society” parents at age 32, and she has a passion for writing and illustrating children’s books in a time when women did not get their books published. She traipses around London, trying to convince the old, stodgy publishing houses to print one of her books and one firm agrees to print a small run of them to appease her. Leap forward in time and Miss Beatrix Potter becomes one of the best selling children’s book authors of all time. Her wonderful publications literally fly off the shelves.

Anyway, what she is able to do with her fortune is buy a beautiful farm in the Lake District, which she names Hill Top. She keeps it alive as a working farm and helps to protect the area from “new development” by the city folks. She continues to acquire farm after farm (from struggling and retiring farmers) much to the chagrin of the developers – she essentially outbids them and they don’t like it one damn bit – and helps the farmers to stay gainfully employed. She later sets up a conservation trust and creates an arrangement that will protect the area for farming for generations and helps to stave off overdevelopment. The movie is a great story about life, love, and dealing with hardship, following your dreams, believing in yourself, and giving back. I was inspired and dead wrong in my outlook on what to expect from this film. Get your hands on it and watch it if you get a chance. She was a visionary and champion of conservation long before others had even thought about the idea.

Fast forward the clock to a recent story involving one of our club members, Dr. George Bohigan and his recent deal with the state of Missouri and his family property. The details of this story have been covered elsewhere, but just know this – we just picked up some new water with wild rainbow trout in it…and that is a good thing. George didn’t have to do this, but he did and we appreciate it.

Another champion of conservation, Teddy Roosevelt led the cause that created much of our protected national parks system here in the United States. We have so many beautiful places protected by these initiatives that we get enjoy for generations. It took vision, courage, and tenacity to get these things done.

Thanks Teddy. Thanks Beatrix. Thanks George. It is people like you that make the world a little better place for the rest of us because of your extra effort, generosity, and willingness to share. We should all be thinking out of the box like that…me included. You think about that. TL

Shakers and Fakers

2007-03-01T16:50:00.001-06:00

As I was pondering what to write about this month (or more aptly put, what to rant about…albeit randomly), a couple of things came to mind. I was in a discussion recently with a dear friend, debating some issue that we were divided on. I can’t even remember what the issue was, but what I do remember is being profoundly struck by the thought of how intellectually lazy my friend’s position was. He was basically regurgitating what he had heard somewhere else, without even thinking through the issue. We all have lots of different perspectives on things and there is nothing wrong with that. In fact, if we all thought exactly the same on everything, it would be a pretty boring world. A little healthy disagreement is a key component of our democratic values. It makes the engine go. However, you need to understand what you believe and why you believe it and be able to share that with others. Think!

What do I mean by being intellectually lazy? Don’t just read or listen to someone else’s position and “re-pontificate” that. Process what they shared with you, do a little research, some reflection, chase it all with a little single malt and a Partagas, and arrive at your own conclusions. If your perspective matches theirs, then all the mo’ better. Think for yourself. Think out of the box. Just because the Post Dispatch, the Chicago Tribune, or KMOX says it doesn’t necessarily mean it’s so. Everybody has their personal “operating software” and filters information through that. We have our agenda, our spin, our angle, if you will. There is nothing wrong with that as long as we stay true to ourselves. Some of the most innovative ideas driving change have come from thinking out of the box. The Paradox!

Case in point – our club is a proponent of catch and release fishing. I totally support this position, especially for wild fish. However, we have a very interesting predicament out west regarding the Wild Pacific Salmon. Purchasing and eating Wild Pacific Salmon instead of Atlantic Salmon may very well save the fish. Why? There is a need to create an “economic value” for the fish. An influx of farm raised Atlantic Salmon has wreaked havoc on the wild fish. The fish that escape compete with wild salmon and steelhead and the fish farms spread disease and parasites among other things. Whether you like it or not, in a land where free enterprise and capitalism rule, money talks and everything else walks. So, to save these wonderful fish, we need to eat them. By choosing to do this, we can ensure that we will have plentiful wild salmon runs in the future. Economic viability drives the dollars to the protection of this species. Trout Unlimited has backed this initiative and if you really think about it, this makes complete sense. By supporting the effort with your own pocketbook, you can drive incentive for the government to make a good decision. If you are interested in this issue, see the Winter 2007 Issue of Trout (TU’s magazine).

While I am on thinking, I have one more thing for you to think about. We are not going to allow “stinkin’ thinkin’” around here. If you have an idea to improve things, get involved. Be part of the solution, not part of the problem. Take a stand. Do something to change things. Quit your belly-aching and take action. All talk…no action. Does that sound like anybody that you know? Don’t be one of them. Are you a shaker or a faker? You think about that. TL

Winning the Rat Race?

2007-02-01T16:44:00.002-06:00

Do you ever find yourself tiring of the rat race? Here is a thought to ponder (albeit and random thought!) – if you win the rat race, you are still a rat. Congratulations! Many of us got into fly fishing to relax and enjoy ourselves in those rare and valuable moments when we carve out time to recreate. I know I did. So, my point this month is to encourage all of you to chill out…relax…slow down…or to quote that great rock band of days gone by, The Eagles, “take it easy”. By the way, did you see that the Eagles are reuniting and recording an album (oops, I meant CD, or digital download, or…I am showing my era)? What goes around comes around…the more things change, the more they stay the same.

If you are worried that the world is passing you by, go ahead and let it. If you will wait one revolution, you will have caught up. Sometimes the insanity of the pace of life can exhaust you. What have you really given up by letting go and setting your own tempo. Not much. Have you given up a television with a flatter screen, a bigger screen, a higher definition, or a better surround sound system? You can have it. Have you given up a bigger house, with a bigger yard, more maintenance, higher property tax bills, and increased insurance payments? You can have that too. Have you given up a high performance vehicle with on board computers, electronic everything, and dealer maintenance fees that feel more like bondage than service? You can even have that. The more stuff you have the more complicated your life gets. In fact, you never own your stuff, your stuff owns you.

So, what can we do about it? You can remember that life is an open road…it is the greatest story never told. It is your journey to define. You can be who you want and you can do what you want. If you don’t like where you are at and who you are, you can redefine yourself. There is no-one to blame but yourself. Take a stand and be who you want to be. That is the beauty of our lives. Each and every day is a new day. You are given a day to take stock and count your blessings. You have a day to make your own list of things to do and then attack them. Or, do nothing at all. Your choice…you decide. Go Zen and take on some good karma.

Last month I talked about some New Year’s resolutions. This month I am making one more resolution…that I will never make another resolution again. So, as I write this column, I am drinking a beer and smoking a cigar in the middle of a Saturday afternoon. Do I have other things to do? Yes. Paint a room, caulk a shower, clean a garage, organize the basement, pay some bills, and on and on and on. But, I am not doing any of them. And, when I get finished with this column and I take that last swig of beer and the final puff on my cigar, I am going to sit down at the tying bench a tie a few flies as I mentally plot my next fishing trip. Yes…the important things in life are what I will be doing.

It is all about your priorities and I am redoing mine as I enter into a new year. Won’t you join me? You think about that. TL

You Better Damn Well Make it a Happy New Year!

2007-01-01T16:47:00.002-06:00

Absolutely unbelievable…another year has passed. I am going to have to participate in that old cliché – Happy New Year! It is a fresh start for all of us and no matter how crappy (not to be confused with crappie, the fish) your 2006 was, you always have a chance to start anew. If you had a spectacular 2006, be careful, it might be your turn for a few challenges. Smile, I am just kidding. Any which way, enjoy your journey down the river of life in this upcoming year.

Now for the resolutions…I thought we might take a different angle on this and learn from one of our most beloved animals – the dog. The best dog I ever had, a German Short Hair named Speckle, died this last year. I already miss him profoundly. He was an amazing friend and companion. Here are some random thoughts and lessons we can take from the Dog (not the Bounty Hunter, but Man’s Best Friend) in 2007. These lessons are in his honor.
Never pass up an opportunity to go for a joy ride.
Allow the experience of fresh air and the wind in your face to be pure ecstasy.
When loved ones come home, always run to greet them.
When it is in your best interest, practice obedience.
Let others know when they have invaded your territory.
Run, romp, and play daily.
Eat and drink with gusto and enthusiasm.
Be loyal to friends and family.
Never pretend to be something you are not.
If you want what lies buried, dig until you find it.

Amazing what you can learn from an animal. I wish you all a wonderful 2007…make it a great one…you think about that. TL

Give Thanks

2006-12-01T18:15:00.001-06:00

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...

2006-10-01T18:14:00.001-05:00

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!

2006-09-01T18:14:00.001-05:00

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

2006-08-01T18:11:00.001-05:00

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

2006-05-01T18:10:00.001-05:00

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

2006-05-01T18:07:00.001-05:00

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

2006-04-01T18:04:00.001-06:00

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'

2006-03-01T18:00:00.001-06:00

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

2006-02-01T17:55:00.002-06:00

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?

2006-01-01T17:52:00.001-06:00

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

Givers & Takers

2005-12-01T17:50:00.002-06:00

I have developed a theory about life and mankind, an idea that is an oversimplification of a truth, to be sure. But, it is MY theory, and so, it is my story and I am sticking to it.

This belief goes something like this: there are two basic types of people on the planet – GIVERS and TAKERS. Granted, there some of us who function in the world of absolutes – black and white – no shades of gray, and, no color. There are some people who give everything they have to others and causes and there are others who give absolutely nothing to anybody but themselves. Both of those types are somewhat a rarity (although, I would venture to say that there are more of this selfish type than we care to admit or think about) and the rest of us fall into the mushy middle. Now that I have served up that idea, I also believe that on the scales of justice, the rest of us tip to one side or the other. Which side are you on – the giving team, or the taking team?

If you aren’t certain, let me help you out. Have you ever been at a stoplight and a car up ahead of you tosses trash out the window – even if it just one small gum wrapper? TAKER! Have you ever been in a movie theater watching that movie you have been waiting to see and the moron(s) behind you flap their lips (and flap, and flap, and flap, and …you get the picture)? TAKER! Have you ever been in a line somewhere (make that two lines merging into one) and you knew you were first and the other person BUTTS (and they knew they were butting)? TAKER! When you enjoy an Ozark stream and you see freshly deposited trash (not the kind that you know probably washed up in the rain and high-water) – lazily deposited for lack of effort – a blatant crime of commission? TAKER! Have you ever encountered the cheap tipper (or no tip at all), the no blinker cut-me-off guy, the walk right in front of my line and steal half of my fishin’ hole guy, the drink my beer and never (and I mean never, ever, never, ever) replace it guy? TAKER, TAKER, TAKER, and TAKER!!!! I think you get the picture. You can use your imagination and dig deep into your personal experiences for your fondest memories.

Conversely, we are richly blessed by the givers of this world. The folks who donate their time to work on projects like Clean Stream and other important conservation activities - GIVERS! People who spend time out in nature and always come away leaving it better than they found it. GIVERS! How about volunteers and committed people who give their TIME, TALENTS, and RESOURCES (sometimes money, sometimes lots and lots of money) to all kinds of great causes that are near and dear to them? GIVERS! On an even simpler level, how about those who live by the good ole GOLDEN RULE – treat others like you yourself would like to be treated (or often times, even better) – they are among us – GIVERS! Offering up a simple fishing tip, sharing a fly or a beer or a cigar, or even sacrificing your fishing hole for another – GIVERS! Those little and simple and random acts of kindness make a big difference in somebody else’s day and life. Have you left the world a better place than you found it, on this very day?

I leave you with this – are you a GIVER or a TAKER? We all would like to think of ourselves in a positive light (as a GIVER), but if we spend a minute and think about it, which are we. Have you made a difference today? Only you can answer that question. You think about that. See you on the streams. TL

Confessions of a Crack(leback) Addict

2005-10-01T17:47:00.001-05:00

It all began on a crisp fall Saturday morning many years ago. I summoned enough courage to enter my local fly shop, not knowing the difference between a five weight, an elk hair caddis, and a tippet. I entered the shop with my hat pulled down low on my brow trying to look as inconspicuous as possible. The bell attached to the front door made a loud “ding” as I entered, spooking me. The fly shop manager approached me and asked if I was looking for anything special. The conversation went something like this: “I have a good friend that is looking to get into fly fishing and he doesn’t have a lot of money to spend. He needs a good basic entry level set-up and he really doesn’t know a damn thing about this sport. I told him I would help him get set up and my mission today is to walk out of here with what he needs to do a little fly fishing for Ozark trout, but spend as little money as possible. Can you do me right?” The fly shop manager - a dry-witted soul; the type that has conversation for his own benefit and a rather engaging character – was more than willing to help, and to his credit, did not take advantage of me. “Sure”, he said, “we will get your ‘uncle’ all set up. It was your ‘uncle’, wasn’t it?”. “Actually, it was my ‘friend’”, I corrected him. As soon as the words left my lips, I knew I had been busted; exposed for the fraud I was. Posing as an experienced fly fisherman, he had spotted this blatantly obvious beginner and picked me out of the lineup. Guilty, as charged. What he didn’t do, was rub my nose in it. He could have and probably wanted to. He got me set up – affordably and quickly and then “released” me out the front door. Thus, began my journey into the dark and seamy world of fly fishing.

What that fly shop manager knew then, that I didn’t know, was that this sport can become incredibly addictive. An entry level rod? Yeah, right! More like a first hit on the crack pipe. What begins as an innocent foray into a method to provide rest and relaxation to a weary soul, and leave the rat race for a few hours a month, can turn into an obsession, a compulsion, and an addiction of sorts. Crack heads have their dealers. Crackleback addicts have their fly shops. I was hooked, and there was no helping me.

Over the next several years, I would build up my arsenal of weaponry to combat these cold and warm water creatures – 4 weights, 5 weights, 8 weights, and more. They came in different lengths, made from different materials, by different manufacturers. The rods and reels that I needed were always the ones I didn’t have. Nothing could quench my thirst. My line, leaders, and tippets came from every manufacturer, every material, and every size. Waders and boot…boots and wader…vests…chest-packs…fly boxes…you name it. It was never enough. There wasn’t a piece of equipment that I didn’t have. I would stumble discreetly into the fly shop (looking around outside for the private eye that I was certain my wife had hired to track my whereabouts) with pockets full of cash, stocking up on the good stuff. My “dealer” was more than willing to comply. Initially, I bought my flies already tied. I had 10 of each fly, in every color, and all sizes. My boxes were so organized that I was afraid to fish for fear of messing up the “system’ that I had developed. I would eventually move up to tying my own – another addiction, which is a story for another day. When I would leave the fly shop, I would ask my good friend (notice – the manager was now my friend – he couldn’t help but be my friend, I was so pathetic, the needy Crackleback addict) to package everything in a discreet brown bag, neatly tucked away, leaving others to guess its contents. The receipt would be tucked away deep in my wallet, where no-one (not even me) would find it.

It felt like my problem was finally on the verge of destroying me, when I found myself purchasing every gadget known to man. I was buying things that I didn’t even know what it did and damn sure was probably never going to use it (because I didn’t even know what if was for). I had become a fly fishing gadget geek. I knew that if I hadn’t seen it before, it was something that I had to have. I wanted to have the edge when I was fishing. I wanted to be one step ahead of the fish and two steps ahead of my fellow fishermen. No need to worry about the fundamentals when you possess cutting edge technology. I determined that I was either very smart or on the edge of complete delusion.

In an attempt to slow the tide of my habit, I joined forces with a local group of like-minded people – the Ozark Fly Fishers – hoping that I would be able to get things under control. Joining this club only made things worse. I thought this would be a self-help organization of kindred spirits, trying to turn back the clock and find a way out. I prepared myself for the first meeting. In the car on the way to the meeting, I rehearsed, “Hello, my name is Ty and I am a Fly Fisherman…” When I got there, what I found was a very diverse group of dedicated fisher-people that were even crazier than I was. This could be trouble, I thought to myself. Not only did these people have all of the gear and “stuff” that I had and then some, but they had braved bold new worlds that I had never heard of before. I had only experienced the tip of the iceberg. Some of these people actually made their own rods – some from bamboo. This truly was serious business, this fly fishing thing. They tied their own flies (and made up their own designs) out of all kinds of material – including hair off of their dogs (and other miscellaneous house pets). What was I getting myself into? Not only that, but these people fished all over the world – and I mean, all over the world! Weren’t there a lot of fish in our own backyard? Apparently, the fish elsewhere are bigger and better than here and we are determined to go in search of them. Ernest Hemmingway must have been on to something.

Along the way, I have met some of the most incredible people and had some amazing times. Here I am, many years later, with a small fortune invested in fishing gear and stuff (and worth a fortune, I am certain) just as hooked as the day I started. If I had taken the same money and invested in some blue chip stocks or mutual funds, I would probably be worth more than Ross Perot (and could probably run for President, for that matter). It has been a good ride and I have many great memories from this great sport. My biggest day as a fly fisherman was the day I decided to no longer fight the habit, but rather, give in to it. I became free to pursue my “healthy” addiction, without guilt. There are habits and addictions that are a hell of a lot worse (and I have a few of those, too – but please don’t tell anybody) than this great sport and I make no apologies. I only have one fear in life – that when I die, my wife will sell all of my fly fishing gear for what I told her I paid for it. You think about that. See you on the streams. TL