Save a life. Adopt a dog.

Meet Sadie

Several weeks ago, my wife Brandi took our cat Loki to the vet to get his annual checkup and shots. While at the VCA we go to she met a woman named Tammy who was fostering a silver lab named Sadie. Brandi came home talking about a dog that had been rescued from a high kill shelter and was the sweetest thing she’d seen in a long time. I took that as a dig cause I’m pretty sweet. I mean, I’d melt in the rain. But I digress..

I’m usually the sucker for any animal in need. I get it from my mom who would bring home cats from the steel mills she worked at. She’d tell me stories of rats the size of cats so she needed to save them from a certain death in a mill. As a kid, you can imagine the dreams I’d have of giant mill rats doing battle with mill cats. I used to have quite the imagination. Thanks for wrecking that, internet. So, Sadie May. Brandi said she was skinny from malnutrition, had lost a good portion of her hair, had some other problems but my wife was in love. I wasn’t sold. We already have Fritz who is a walking allergy. We talked for hours about the pros and cons of adopting a third dog. We’d tried earlier in the summer with another lab and it was a disaster. The lab was aggressive and my cats were in danger with it around. Needless to say, that lab lasted a weekend with us before the owner took it back. I was wary about having a dog of unknown history in my house again. I didn’t want to chance any accidents but I agreed to do a trial run. Brandi filled out the application through the lab rescue, Central Indiana Lab Rescue and Adoption, and a few weeks later on a Sunday, Sadie showed up for a house visit. As any good adoption group will do, they wanted to meet us, see our house, and meet our dogs and cats. Sadie was in a strange place but within an hour all three of the dogs were asleep on the floor. I took that as a good sign. If our dogs accepted her right away, there was hope. The cats were the big issue. Derp hissed at Sadie and ran which was totally expected. Loki hides from his shadow and has his own bedroom for him to feel safe in so he was the least of my worries. Derp on the other hand thinks he’s a dog. Brandi was on vacation last week so CILRA agreed to bring her over Monday for a trial run. Derp met Sadie again and hissed at her and walked away. I was on edge but Sadie never moved. The first night went pretty smooth. Sadie was exhausted and slept right through it. Tuesday came and when I got home from work I sat with the dogs for a bit. Derp walked up and after a few seconds of pacing, nuzzled Sadie. I was shocked but Derp is a good judge of character for a cat. I rescued him on a stream years ago and he’s a hell of a cool cat. Sadie licked him and I wasn’t so much on the defensive with her and him.

The week flew by. Sadie went on daily walks, rides, hikes, and met a whole bunch of other dogs from the neighborhood and beyond. She’s got some work ahead of her but I’ve seen a tiny bit of confidence coming out of her little shell. Basic obedience training has started and we’ll be working to break her separation anxiety, but that will come with time. She’s had a rough 4 years. With us, the rest of her years will be spent living the good life with lots of love and attention right alongside Fritz, Finn, Derp, and Loki.

Check out Central Indiana Lab Rescue and Adoption by clicking this link – Central Indiana Lab Rescue and Adoption or check out their facebook page at

Of course it wouldn’t be a story without pictures…










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Reel Service Project 2015

Scott over at Vedavoo always has some cool things going on but this one takes the cake. Check out Some of the best fly fishing artists have handpainted bags, boxes, and a gear set and a raffle will raise money for Project Healing Waters. The goal is to raise over $10,000 for Project Healing Waters. The artists include A.D Maddox, Paul Puckett, Andrea Larko, Jeff Kennedy, Eric Hornung, Josh Udesen, Jonathan Marquardt, Ty Hallock, and Derek DeYoung. That’s a lot of talent right there. Tickets are $10 per ticket, 6 for $50, or 12 for $100 until the event ends.





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In June the Wabash was out of it’s banks in places. In September we’re wiggling the boat through channels we usually float through in search of big gar. That boat can get through some small water but this adventure tested it. The silt at our feet was three feet deep and it would suck you down and hold you in place. Not a fun feeling when you’re pulling a boat loaded with gear and a kid who is wearing his Jordans and talking smack to you as you wrench a boat that’s suction cupping to mud through a channel it doesn’t want to go through. The Towee impressed us because I can’t think of another boat that we could have snaked through that channel as easily. A wider boat would have never made it and a heavier boat would have had to have stayed on the main river. It’s nice to still be impressed by a boat after two years of ownership.

We could see a whole slew of gar busting surface in the little lake off the channel. Breathing air using their swim bladder as a lung. Gotta love a dinosaur. The gar didn’t want to play ball but we kept at it. Saw some really good sized ones but the cold front and storms seems to have put the bite off. The kid decided he wanted to learn to row the boat. I could get used to that. All he’s gotta learn is how to avoid rocks and we’ll have a rowing slave. That’s like winning the lotto.

Until next time..








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Smallies make the world a better place

Short float on a local water and the smallies cooperated with gusto. The water is cool for late summer, early fall, and that’s got them feeling frisky on the topwater and streamer eats.







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How to turn 36

I turned 36 this weekend. I used to think that people in their 30’s were old. How wrong I was. With age comes wisdom but I know I don’t know shit from Shinola. Maybe when I’m 80 I’ll have a clue but I have a feeling I still won’t know shit.

My friends and family treated me to an excellent weekend full of fishing, shooting, amazing food, and great laughs. I felt spoiled.







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The Tattooed Heart in Lafayette Indiana has a new location!

Got to check out the new location for The Tattooed Heart in Lafayette, Indiana. It’s killer. It’s an old building full of character and hell there’s even an old bank vault in the basement for those whiny customers to spend some time out in. My buddy Dan was getting his first tattoo by Paul Meadows last night and being that I turn 36 on Sunday I figured I’d get two small new pieces to commemorate another year on this spinning ball of dirt that’s hurtling through space at 67,000 miles per hour.

Here’s a couple shots I randomly took during the night. Big congrats to the guys at The Tattooed Heart on their new shop! If you want to make an appointment click the link here, stop by the new shop, or give them a call.
The Tattooed Heart
125 N 4th st.
Lafayette, Indiana
(765) 449-4111





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An early birthday present for Nate

Nate had never caught a fish in Indiana. He also had never caught a gar. Saturday he checked those boxes on the old bucket list. It was a baby gar but it was still really cool to see. We got into a whole slew of gar who couldn’t stay on the rope. That’s a blast, even when they’re only on the line for a few seconds. I finally cracked a good smallie on that river and it reminded me why I always keep a hook on my gar flies. Til next time..







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The rumor is confirmed: Towee Boats will soon be offering a drift boat

coming soon

This October we’ll see the launch of the newest Towee fishing platform and it’s going to be a game changer. The newest addition to the Towee Boats line up will be a drift boat that will do to the drift boat world what the Towee skiffs have done to the skiff world. A 16′ drift boat made from the lightest, strongest materials without sacrificing fishability and style while remaining affordable.

The Towee drift boat will come with a newly designed trailer as well as oars and everything needed to get right on the water. This new boat will have some very interesting features that every fly fisherman will find useful but streamer junkies will love. I can’t get into all the details just yet so stay tuned over the next few months for more information on the Towee drift boat


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Summer Smallies







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Night fishing, rock and roll, and drunks


I’ve always loved night fishing. When I was a kid I remember sneaking off and drowning worms under a bobber at a local pond when respectable citizens were sleeping. I don’t remember really catching anything in that pond. A catfish or a crappie here and there but that was about it. I’m pretty sure it had to do with the tons of lead shot in the water from the pond’s former life as a trap shooting area. Growing up in an area where the environment has been wrecked for progress – you take what you can get.

There’s something about being on the water as the sun goes down, watching that last sliver of light winking out like a snuffed candle. You truly feel a little smaller in stature as the darkness sets in around you. Your cocksure attitude on the river turns a bit more cautious when your vision is limited to a few feet around your boat. The rocks seem a little taller and a bit sharper in the dark. I like to think of it as nature telling you that she’s still the boss. Summer floats on the river sometimes provide the best fishing you’ll see until the fall feedbags are strapped on. The big fish move from their holes and start cruising for food. The mayfly hatch is so thick you take smaller breaths so you’re not choking on them. You squint a bit to keep them out of your eyes. The bzzzzzz of a bug in your ear becomes common. These damned bugs are everywhere and on everything and if you’re like me, you don’t have dry flies in your fly box. Hell, you don’t even have a nymph, a scud, or hell anything tied on a hook smaller than size 2. Fuck it. We planned on poppers at night. We’re going to fish poppers at night.

This float is around 5 hours under normal circumstances. That’s fishing fairly quickly with little backrowing except to keep the boat aligned. I’ve stretched it into 14 hours and I’ve made it as short as 3 hours. It really depends on the fish. At night, 5 hours can seem like an eternity. At 10pm it’s starting to get really dark. River dark. You come up on houses and they might have a light on, some have parties going on, some really have parties going on. You get cat called from the ladies who love to “WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO” when drunk. The same ladies who have smoked since ’78 and sound like they gargle gravel. Their husbands are sitting in plastic chairs near the fire tipping back some cheap watered down beer and calling it the best damned thing to happen to America since John Wayne. They yell out encouragement if they see you. Sometimes you hear the random comment about “oooh they’re fly fishing, that’s so weird.” and then it’s back to black. The moon and the sounds of the night close in. You see eyes on the banks as the raccoons, deer, and who knows what else come down to the river to drink in relative safety. The raccoons don’t seem to be bothered too much by the river rats in Poison ’85 tour shirts.


A fish is picked up here and there. They can come from anywhere at this time. Lots of cruisers over the rocks. The beasts do indeed hunt at night. There’s another type of beast to be aware of at night on any river. The drunk river rat. These types of beast are usually a white male, 30 to 60 years old, who has knocked back a few too many and gets the idea into his head that running his river jon at full speed with no lights on is a smart thing to do. I’ve encountered this subspecies of man a few times on the water. They’re definitely not as rare a sighting as a sascrotch or a double breasted canoe flasher. A drunk river rat is surprisingly dense and does not seem to learn from previous mistakes. Lower units are not a drunk river rat’s best friend.

The history of drunk river rats can be traced back to the dawn of alcohol, boating, and stupidity. They followed the trails blazed by humanity’s best and brightest throughout our species’ journey out of Africa and across the plains of the world. Their progeny hopped ships bound for the new world and after much breeding, in and out, we’re left with today’s version of the drunk river rat. A curious creature who sees no harm in flying down a dark river with no regard for anyone else’s lives. We had a run in this weekend with two of these creatures. They were running flat out around 11pm at night. They had no navigation lights on and they were motoring straight at us. We started screaming at them. I started rowing for the shore to get to some sort of safety. They change course and head towards the shore. We’re still screaming when they finally come to a stop not far from us. They seem confused. It’s eerily reminiscent of watching an ape charging a primate researcher only to check themselves right before the collision. They didn’t respond to our very easy questions from our boat. They started with “WHAT?!?!” and ended with “THE FUCK?!?!” The drunk river rats continue on down the river. The motor is cranked back up and the navigational lights are still not on. The drunk sitting on the bow of the boat would be rocketed off the front if they do indeed hit a rock. We kind of hope they do hit something and disable their boat but luck seems to smile on people like the drunk river rat.

The sound of their motor slowly disappears around the next bend. Our adrenaline is pumping and all the peacefulness of the night float is gone. We’re on edge waiting for more drunks to come down the river at us. We’d seen them heading upstream earlier in the day, it only makes sense they have to come back down. Thirty minutes or so later we come upon a gathering of drunk river rats and the boat that almost hit us is tethered at their dock. We hear their drunk babbling, we hear the drunk river rat women “WOOOOOO’ing” every time Freebird comes on. A dog barks. My buddy and I look at each other and shake our heads. Every damned trip is an adventure on this river. He goes back to casting and picks up another fish or two before we call it a night.


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