Fly fishing bloggermen are weak
I was recently bored out of my mind and found my way to a blog I didn’t know previously existed. There are so many blogs, and so little time. And admittedly my internet connection is spotty at best. In all actuality I’m lucky if I can get my laptop to work at all without shorting out. I should really look into a waterproof housing for it, but then again electro-shocking the water on occasion does produce some easy meals.
But back to the blog in question, which is titled simply, alexkain. First off, I find it a bit pompous for a blogger to name their blog after themselves. I suppose if you’ve a high enough opinion of yourself or you’re famous, it’s not such an unreasonable thing to do. But Alex Kain? Never heard of him. At least not previously.
A particular entry took a jab at the myriad fly fishing blogs polluting the internet. This Kain fellow starts off gently by stating:
I have to be honest, I haven’t been reading your blog.
I haven’t been reading yours either, Alex Kain.
He goes on to complain that 99% of the fly fishing blogs are boring and lacking an edge. He accuses people of essentially tiptoeing the path most traveled rather than taking a risk. He doesn’t use these exact terms, but he’s calling for you fly fishing bloggers to run with scissors. Pointed inward, perhaps.
But I must say, as much as I don’t agree with anything fly fishingmen say, this Alex Kain character may almost be a man I might respect, if not for the fact that I’m incapable of respecting any man. He appears to be a speaker of the truth and has undoubtedly rubbed a few fly fishing bloggermen the wrong way. Without knowing this Alex Kain fly fishing bloggerman, my first perception is that he’s abrasive and outspoken: two things that probably make him a man of few friends. Likely he fishes alone, or perhaps with weak-minded “yes-men” who carry his net for him. Abrasive and outspoken—I see nothing wrong with that, having been referred to similarly.
After reading his entry I left my comment:
Then someone named Alex (assuming it was Alex Kain) replied:
At this point I horked up a chunk of nutria and took my leave. I was not looking for anyone to agree with me. I certainly don’t want meaningless praise from any man. In his reply he should have taken a shot at me. He should have defended his territory by declaring me a braggart and calling me out for a duel in mid-riffle. I would have returned an insult and accepted the challenge. Instead I was left feeling rather empty. I’ve been referred to as a “fat, finned bastard” on my own blog—surely I should have been offered something similar in this instance where I was just a visitor. I was disappointed in his lack of gumption. Disappointed, but not surprised. After all that it turns out he may just be just one of those boring, overcooked, gritless fly fishing bloggermans. Sort of like hatchery fish.
I am Roderick Hawg-Brown, and I speak the truth.
Winter loathing under the cut bank
I detest winter. Sure, the frigid water temperatures slow my metabolism to a crawl and I am fairly well able maintain my bulk without having to chase food. But after a couple of months the shacknasties set in. I long for a little game of cat and mouse (I’m not picky and will eat either, though I prefer the cat due to their larger size). Both are scarce this time of year.
From time to time I’ll make the rounds just to see what’s happening in the neighborhood. Not much this time of year. If I’m really bored I’ll harvest spent end-tackle (my lair is lavishly decorated with Thingamabobbers in every size and color). Assorted stonefly nymphs can be seen crawling about—skwalas are on the brink of hatching, and while that excites fly fishermen, I’m not a bug eater. I need meat: warm-blooded, furred or feathered meat. Unfortunately ducks have flown south for the winter, and people seldom bring their ornamental terriers to the river for a playful swim in the middle of winter. The occasional muskrat or nutria will make the mistake of nosing under my cut bank from time to time, or I’ll break through the ice to ruin a playful otter’s day. So, I get by. But food isn’t my foremost concern.
There’s something else missing.
For most of the winter months I’m content to catch up on my reading. I got through Gierach’s latest book, No Shortage of Good Days. That Bob White guy who drew the cover is pretty good, but to be honest I feel like I’ve read it all before–will the man never retire? I just finished River of Doubt: Theodore Roosevelt’s Darkest Journey. He may have been President but he was a fool, though I will give him credit–he had bigger cajones than any man alive today. I also recently finished An Entirely Synthetic Fish. It explains a lot. Rainbow trout, MEH. Frankly, I’ve grown weary of reading.
I’ll admit, I’m starting to feel the twangs of melancholy setting in. I look forward to the warmer days of Spring, but damn that Punxsutawney Phil for declaring 6 more weeks of winter. Who died and made him meteorologist, anyway? Bring that ground squirrel to see me and he’ll not see his shadow again.
A lot of you fly fishermen have been making the rounds to fly fishing shows and outdoor expos recently. You’ve spent ridiculous amounts of money on new rods, reels and lines. After you get back from your nancy-boy trips to the Bahamas the weather will have warmed a good bit. Don’t let a little residual snow on the river bank deter you. Those chicken streamers you’ve been tying over the winter? Fill a fly box with them–all of them– and come see me.
I’m tired of winter.
I want some amusement.
Get some Hawg Brown t-shirt
Fly fishermen are essentially weak creatures and don’t stand a chance of ever actually catching this Hawg Brown. Well, I’m taking pity on you all and offering you a chance to get a piece of me. This is as close you’ll ever get.
I am contemplating making available for sale a Roderick Hawg-Brown commemorative t-shirt, although I’ve not settled on a design yet. You amusing people are always opinionated, and while your opinions matter little to me, I’m opening this up for discussion. So set your glass of Chardonnay down for a minute and have a gander at these t-shirt designs.
Of the three, which would you prefer? The Roderick Hawg-Brown logo (that you see in the header at the top of this website) would be printed small, on the front chest pocket, with one of the other designs on the back. If your squinty little eyes can’t see the designs below, click on them–they’ll get bigger. It’s magic.
As if there was ever any question, the shirts will be brown.
Front
Design #1
Design #2
Design #3
Discuss.
I am Roderick Hawg-Brown, and I speak the truth.
Lefty says Tenkara is a fad
I find it ironic that just recently I pontificated on the matter of Tenkara being the result of damage incurred to your fly rod after I’ve removed the reel–and subsequently the stripping and snakeye guides–with great force, and now word has it that my good buddy Lefty Crayfish has proclaimed that “Tenkara is a fad and won’t last long.”
The only way to know whether or not this is true is to go straight to the source. So that is exactly what I did.
Lefty, is it true? Is Tenkara a fad?
If Lefty says so, it must be true: Tenkara is a fad.
I am Roderick Hawg-Brown, and I speak the truth.
Don’t use backing
Fly fishermen are prone to over-complicating most everything and would do well to greatly simplify matters. Take knots, for example. I find it rather musing that there are entire books dedicated to fishing knots. I am not so much concerned with the specific knot the fly fisherman uses, or even what that knot is called. There are too many names for too many fishing knots. The fisherman may choose any knot they wish and call it what they will, but my suggestion, particularly when it comes to affixing the backing to the fly reel, is to eliminate the knot altogether.
I would suggest not even wasting one’s time with backing, but fly fishermen like their backing. They like to see it. Doing so apparently makes them feel good about themselves, as fishermen are known to say with great pride, “That fish took me into my backing!” or, “Today I saw my backing!” Good for that fisherman. If they saw their backing and didn’t suffer catastrophic equipment failure and loss, the fisherman caught a cute little fish. Probably a brookie.
In this instance, the fisherman got lucky that it wasn’t me engaging them in a bit of sport.
Again, allow me to reiterate: do not attach your backing to your reel.
At this juncture I can envision the angry fly fisherman throwing up their arms in protest, blurting out expletives and proclaiming, “This is an outrage! Why would I not secure my backing to the reel using one of the many knots I have memorized after having studied several volumes on fishing knots!?”
It’s all rather simple, actually. The risk the fisherman runs when the backing is securely affixed results in the following:
An inadvertent introduction to Tenkara.
Synthetic disc drags are like a fine cigar or the rear tires on a alcohol-burning dragster: they are easily smoked. Once that has happened, the fisherman finds himself at the end of the line, in both the literal and figurative sense of the word. With 90 yards of fly line and another 150 yards of backing having been stripped from the reel, it takes mere seconds for the next phase of the meltdown to take place.
The lock ring on the reel seat is next in line for failure. Once this frail component has been compromised the reel is propelled forward as if being shot from a cannon. Stripping guides are the first obstacles, followed by the snake eye guides.
Upon close inspection we see that the fly reel is larger in diameter than either the stripping or snake eye guides. When the reel lurches forward it is akin to a 40-foot tall locomotive trying to fit through a tunnel that is 5 feet high, only in this instance the locomotive wins. At this point the reel becomes mine, along with the backing, fly line, leader and fly. You can keep the rod, although a rod is not of much use to the fly fisherman when it can no longer support a reel.
Unless of course you are one of those peculiar Tenkara fisherman types.
I am Roderick Hawg-Brown, and I speak the truth.
