Monday, March 1, 2010

March Madness.

March can be some what of a downer. The majority of local streams close because the stocking truck is beginning to make its annual rounds gearing up for the start of the "season". Sure, a lot of the special regulation water remains open for the diehards which is great news for those of us itching to get out. Problem is, everyone else wants to get out as well. I tried to make it out on Sunday, just before the deadline to fish some urban water I never visited before. Problem was, I was well under the weather from the night before. The real world made me soft. The glory days of the last few years are in the rear view mirror and I just couldn't keep pace. Damn, college kids. I was left a shadow of my former self in a parking lot in Valley Forge National Park. I meant to get out of the truck, gear up, and be content having a wild brown trout cure me of my sickness. I just couldn't make that first move. I ended up falling asleep in the front seat only to be awakened by park patrol soon after. I decided I should just make the trip home. It was a good choice.

The Early Stones Are Coming Off.

Micro Stones.

March: A Time To Fill.
The Only Sticker Worthy of A Fresh Box of Big Nasties.
Like Peas & Carrots.

Two Sunday's Ago, Is Way Too Long.

So here I am and its the beginning of March. College basketball season. Fly tying season. Tax season. The ladder is something new. Apparently, I am getting a refund. As soon as I heard the possible number, the first thing that crossed my mind was fly fishing gear. The wish list was made. It is full of stuff I absolutely do not need. But one can wish, one can save, and one can spend. I fully intend to spend. The possibilities are endless. Those discounted Cloudveil waders, new Korker's Predators, that 10'6" 3 wt. I've been meaning to get, a Brodin ghost, a macro lens for the DSLR, maybe even a Kodiak Watermaster. Or that shiny new 27 inch Imac with Aperture. Christ. I am going mad. I've got the sickness and the only cure is to get out and have that calm shattered by a tug of a wild brown. Maybe it can take my mind off the possibilities of that check in the mail.

Confession. Turning Into A Gear Whore.

Filling in Action. The Go 2's.

1# Stunna.

Early Black Stones.
18's and 20's.