Yesterday we went to a really cool property in the middle of nowhere. We were lucky enough to be able to bring the dogs along to play on the acreage and in the pond. The fish were sleeping so I took a bunch of photos of the beasts doing their thing. It was a pretty proud moment yesterday when Fritz swam. I was told he wasn’t much of a water dog and that’s pretty much been the case over the past two years. He’d stand in water in lakes and creeks but never swim and I’m pretty sure he didn’t even like standing there getting his feet wet. Yesterday he threw all caution to the wind and dove right in. Andrew and I were in a jon boat fishing for largemouth and Fritz decided to come swim to the boat. Pretty damned impressed.
In my world a happy dog is a tired dog and these dogs were dog tired by the end of the day. The second they loaded into the truck there were down and out. They ate their dinner and then slept right through the night. I could use more of that in my life.
The folks at Redington have something cooking and it’s smelling good. I can’t wait to see what the rest of the season brings.
Find Your Water: Season 1, Episode 1: Our Backyard
In the first episode of Find Your Water, follow along with Redington employees as they highlight the incredible test facility located right in their own backyard–the Washington Coast. Steelhead season is integral to Redington’s culture, and this short film makes it easy to see why fly anglers spend entire lifetimes chasing this elusive species.
We tried. The trip started out with a text or maybe it was a phone call. “David. Bobby here. We need to go find water that’s not 16″ thick.” I responded in the affirmative. What else are you to do? Say no? Fuck no. Then came another text or call. Another Dave was added to the roster. Not thinking about the mathematical significance of names squared,I texted a friend and invited him. It became Indiana Dave and Andrew and Michigan Dave and Andrew. (Though if truth be told both Andrew’s are Hoosiers). That’s new math and it should have worked. Stupid fish don’t even understand math.
We called off, called in, or just disappeared from the work scene and headed south to warmer climes. Warmer is really subjective here. What’s Michigan and Indiana warm is Tennessee cold. We were pretty warm and happy in 30 degree weather when at home it’s in the negatives. Stupid winter.
We rolled into town and found our cabin at an awesome little out of the way spot that’s also a horse farm and settled in for the night. The Michigan contingent got in a few hours later and then we drank whiskey for a few hours. Whiskey is good for the soul.
The next morning we hit the water at 30 or so degrees and worked it as well as we could. It didn’t matter what we did, but we weren’t on ice and that’s what we wanted: to not be on ice. With no fish in the hands, we met up with Todd Gregory of Towee Boats, and had a good dinner at a bbq joint. It’s the south, everything is bbq or fried. Twice.
So we fished. Hard or not hard depending on who you ask. We casted a lot. We screwed around just as much. If you’ve ever had the misfortune of fishing with us, you’ll know we fuck around even when the fish are eating like gluttonous cows. Fishing is fun but taking it too serious is stupid and misses the point.
So we tried. And we failed. That’s fishing. We also had a fucking amazing time with friends and that’s why we do it. If we did it to catch fish and jerk off to fish porn, well, the fire would burn out pretty fucking quick. I had a follow on the last day I fished. It was a big wake and my heart jumped out of my chest. Surgeon General’s warning: Musky are the leading cause of third degree heart attacks while on the water. It felt good. Real good. Better than being at home drilling holes in ice. That’s for damned sure.
Hardly Strictly Musky is coming up and we’ll have our revenge….