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Category Archive:   Blog


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Running a blog takes an inordinate amount of time and energy, there is no doubt. So time-consuming in fact is it that fly fishing blogs, once as abundant as tricos, have quickly fallen like a spent hatch, victims of time, responsibility and sometimes simple exhaustion. After all, there’s not a lot of reasons to spend hours almost every night creating graphics, editing photos, and pouring over carefully chosen words other than the simple passion to create something (hopefully) new and unique.

Every once in a while though there is something that re-stokes the coals, causes a smile, and gives you the renewed energy to keep on going. Today that was a slightly thick, nondescript envelope all the way from France that was soaked in interesting, hand scrawled text. Inside was a stack of awesome stickers from the creative folks at www.rivière.com. I highly recommend checking out their site and if (like me) you don’t speak french, use Google translate to convert the site in to words you’ll understand (like this).

Obviously passion transcends cultures, borders and language, and for that i’m eternally grateful.

Merci amis! Très cool!

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Note: This post is not about fishing, at least not in the normal sense. Instead it’s a love note to two wonderful people, a rock, two very special cypress, a river and the fleeting signs of it’s inhabitants.

This Thanksgiving i was dumb founded to have my wife insist on an adventure instead of a Thanksgiving meal (which was especially odd since she’s an AMAZING cook that really enjoys it).  While the thought of her mouth watering dishes were mouth watering, the chance to get out with her and my son on a perfect day (70 degrees and sunny, slight breeze) was far to enticing, especially since i’d been sprawled out on the couch and sick for days (thus the lack of posts).

Packing up the car for all the necessary items for an evening of hiking and picnicking, we made a b-line for our favorite spot at Pedernales State Park to celebrate an evening of thanks. Hiking in to our special limestone island we made camp and laid out the Thanksgiving dinner: cornichons, artichoke dip, truffle cheese, hummus, sea salt crackers, pinot grigio infused sausage, blue cheese, and a mixture of veggies washed down with sips of Prosecco. As enjoyable as the food truly was, it was overshadowed by the all of  the reds, oranges and yellows that the tress and my wife were decorated in, announcing with great vibrancy that fall truly was here.

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With the sun setting, and the day drawing to a close, thoughts turned to the hike back as my wife leaned over and told me to “go fish”. Knowing that by the time i strung up the rod and dealt with the odds and ends as well as hiking to a good spot the day would be far gone, i instead asked if we could hike back and sit at the top of the stairs a little bit, where all of the falls and the pools would be readily viewable.

Striking a meditative pose on the brick semicircle, i watched the lower pool intensely, noticing every small bass taking bugs, gar catching their breath, and largemouth chasing baitfish to the surface before inhaling them in a breath of gluttony. I eyed the likely spots predicting what sort of fish would strike on various parts of the water and found myself strangely correct more often than not.

My wife, concerned that i felt like i was missing out softly asked me again if i wanted to go down and fish.

“I already have.” I responded, and we strapped on the packs and headed back to the car.

It was true, i felt like i’d experienced a wonderful day of fishing, without ever once even wetting a line.

It’s odd, but occasionally the best fishing is when you’re not even fishing.

Sometimes just spotting that small ripple, two hundred yards away, that nobody else noticed, it’s concentric rings expanding and fading in perfect formation is enough to make you smile.

Thank you to my wife and son for the absolute best Thanksgiving ever.

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The feature length video “Hooké Gaspé” from Hooké just came out, full of steelhead, trout, trials and tribulations. Check it out (with captions) and live vicariously through this awesome crew!

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Every one of us has that special body of water nearby that we covet as though it were an original and obscure limited edition pressing on virgin vinyl by our favorite band.  For me and many of my fellow local anglers it’s Barton Creek here in Austin, TX.

With cooler temperatures and school back in session (a big deal when you are located in the same town as the University of Texas), the party crowds are thinning out and the local waters are quickly falling back into the hands of the curious and adventurous. Surely this isn’t limited to Texas, i imagine it’s a time of the year that many anglers look forward to, an actual chance for undisturbed waters and fish after months of trying to avoid the cooler toting crowds.

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In an effort to avoid the throngs of beer swilling revelers and their migraine inducing drum circles, i stayed away from one of my favorite spots for most of the summer.  Just the other day though i shuffled on down the Hill of Life (below), cautiously keeping both ears alert for any sound of off beat djembes echoing though the valley.  Fortunately all i heard was the beautiful white noise of water tumbling over rock and onto (and into) itself,  a sonic affirmation that the creek was alive and flowing.

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The fishing was good, with a few healthy and zealous bass putting a hardy bend in my 2WT.  Not  neccesarily the kind of fishing day that might expand from humble and fun to epic and legendary in my mind as that day fades into the past.  Really though it doesn’t matter, the fish were just playing a secondary role, the main draw of the day being the ambiance provided by a wealth of cool air, cool water, lush greenery and the complete absence of humanity and its debris.

Solitude, water, white noise and fish minutes from home.  It surely can feel like nirvana, but really it’s just fall on your favorite small water.  Time to rig the lightweight rod and reacquaint yourself with yours.

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