Archive for the ‘The Environment’ Category
The Long Weekend Past
June 18, 2014
Rod & Dog
May 13, 2014
The Lochsa
March 18, 2014
Friend AJ casting a four-weight bamboo rod on the Lochsa.
I cannot claim to know the Lochsa River, of north central Idaho, well. It has had a place in my life, and in the lives of my family and friends, for many years, though. I fished it this last weekend with a new friend. Now that I live in Idaho, I look forward to visiting many times and giving it the intimate attention I should have, long ago.
It was years ago that I was last on the Lochsa. My wife and I had not yet moved East, and we were traveling from my sister’s house in Boise to visit my family in Missoula. I remember the drive well because it was Christmas Even, and it was snowing hard. For those who have not been there, narrow Highway 12 borders the river for many miles before climbing over Lolo Pass and down into Montana’s Bitterroot Valley. I wanted to put chains on the car — a late 80’s Subaru wagon — but I was afraid to stop. In the blizzard, we could not see the side of the road, nor could we see approaching traffic. Fearing that we might be knocked into the river if we stopped, we kept inching along.
Wariness while driving along the Lochsa in wintertime is warranted. One of my brother-in-laws once slipped partially off the highway, with his wife and two sons in the car. As my sister described it to me, they were left teetering on the edge of the road, very close to falling in the river. I think the incident affected my brother-in-law greatly, and understandably so. I had another friend whose car actually did slide all the way into the water. Miraculously, he and his family were alright.
I have more positive memories involving the Lochsa too. During my college years and shortly after, several friends and I would often snowshoe in that river drainage, visiting some of the hot springs in the area. At the time, I often thought of my troubled, but beautiful uncle. He spent a summer manning a fire lookout tower near the Lochsa, in the 1950’s. My uncle has passed away since I made those visits to the area on snowshoes, but I found myself thinking of him this last weekend, as well. As in the past, I wondered if the summer he spent on that lookout tower was a happy one — if it was free from some of the problems that made his life so much more difficult than it should have been.
Looking downstream.
I am like my uncle was in many ways. My life is a happier one, though. This is especially the case, now that I live, once again, close to family and friends in Idaho and Montana … and closer to rivers such as the Lochsa, as well.
River Crampon Sale
February 21, 2014While I certainly enjoy my tackle, I really dislike the commercialized aspects of fly fishing, and I don’t normally plug gear. I have to make a quick exception today, however. I’m one of those people who will go almost anywhere to find a trout stream, and I will go almost anywhere on the stream to find the trout. This leads to a lot of climbing, scrambling, and all too often, falling. Thus, I have become a fan of Patagonia’s River Crampons. In my experience, they are easy to take on and off, very secure and light when attached. Most important, I find them very effective in clinging to rock. Like a lot of quality outdoor products, however, the River Crampons are not realistically priced for those who would use them most; people who are addicted to fly fishing and other outdoor pursuits are not typically big earners — earning, after all, can cut into fishing. Currently, though, Patagonia is clearing out their first generation of River Crampons to make room for a new, “ultralight” version. The original Crampons are nearly half off at the Patagonia website.
Presidents’ Day
February 17, 2014January can be cold and dry, but it can also be a very wet month, a month of heavy rain or quick thaw and freshet-guarded rivers. February is more dependable…. And February is likely to have splendid days of bright sun after frost, with the first faint feelings of spring in the them, for the sap is rising in the maples again and the willow shoots are scarlet with it and the alders and fruit trees budded with it.
February is a good month too because Washington was born on the twenty-second, and that means that my brother-in-law Buck Elmore will probably be able to take time out and come up to try for a fish.
Roderick Haig-Brown, A River Never Sleeps, 1946.
Unlike Haig-Brown’s brother-in-law, I had to work on what is now Presidents’ Day. However, I did some exploring with my wife and daughter yesterday– a sort of Sunday drive–and I surely agree with Haig-Brown’s
assessment of February. It is a solidly winter month; the evidence of this is everywhere. Yet, the month is also pregnant with the feeling that spring is just around the corner.
Burns Night, 2014
January 26, 2014
My Grandfather’s Burns book, a bottle of Scotch from a Wheatley fly box I purchased in Peebles, Scotland, and a few Clyde style flies tied by Andy Gunderson.
Once again, it is that time of year when fans of Robert Burns celebrate Scotland’s most famous bard. My love of his writing springs not only from his writing talent, but from his ability to speak as one close to the land, the people who toil upon it, that animals, and even the plants.
In “Nature’s Law,” Burns acknowledges the inspiration that the world-less-cultivated provides him. More directly, though, he honors life. Specifically, he honors life (with no small amount of pride) as it is shared with and manifested in his twins, just born to him and his future wife, Jean Armour.
“Nature’s Law. A Poem Humbly Inscribed to G.H. Esq., ” 1786.
Let other heroes boast their scars,
The marks of sturt and strife:
And other poets sing of wars,
The plagues of human life;
Shame fa’ the fun; wi’ sword and gun
To slap mankind like lumber!
I sing his name, and nobler fame,
Wha multiplies our number.
Great Nature spoke, with air benign,
‘Go on, ye human race!
‘This lower world I you resign;
‘Be fruitful and increase.
‘The liquid fire of strong desire
‘I’ve pour’d it in each bosom;
‘Here, on this hand, does Mankind stand,
‘And there, is Beauty’s blossom.’
The Hero of these artless strains,
A lowly bard was he,
Who sung his rhymes in Coila’s plains,
With meikle mirth an’ glee;
Kind Nature’s care had given his share
Large, of the flaming current;
And, all devout, he never sought
To stem the sacred torrent.
He felt the powerful, high behest
Thrill, vital, thro’ and thro’;
And sought a correspondent breast,
To give obedience due;
Propitious Powers screen’d the young flow’rs,
From mildews of abortion;
And lo! the Bard – a great reward –
Has got a double portion!
Auld cantie Coil may count the day,
As annual it returns,
The third of Libra’s equal sway,
That gave another Burns,
With future rhymes, an’ other times,
To emulate his sire;
To sing auld Coil in nobler style,
With more poetic fire.
Ye Powers of peace, and peaceful song,
Look down with gracious eyes;
And bless auld Coila, large and long,
With multiplying joys.
Lang may she stand to prop the land,
The flow’r of ancient nations;
And Burnses spring, her fame to sing,
To endless generations!
Getting Settled
January 20, 2014Having relocated to the area where the Palouse and Rocky Mountains meet in Idaho, my mind has been as filled with fish and fly fishing as ever. But even with my thoughts wandering toward the rivers, I have been unpacking boxes and getting acquainted with a new university. This week, as time allows, I’ll get to know the angling collections housed among Washington State University’s Rare Books and Special Collections. And soon enough, I’ll reacquaint myself with Idaho’s fish. Eventually, I’ll even write a few posts about it.
The flagstones in our mid-century modern house were reportedly taken from the Clearwater River.
Mark Browning on Martin Buber
December 5, 2013
Fishing, of course, can be described in terms of Buber’s worldview. Those who focus on the catch as the ultimate goal and who see the fish or the river as something to be mastered would be described in I-It terms; however, the mainstream of American fly fishing writers subscribe to a completely different perception: I-Thou. Fly fishing, for these practitioners, is a method for creating connections of various sorts.
Mark Browning, in Haunted by Water: Fly Fishing in North American Literature (1998). Browning refers to philosopher Martin Buber’s (pictured) brilliant Ich und Du (1923) or, in translation, I and Thou (1937).
A.A. Luce on Angling Ethics
October 24, 2013
Leaving religion aside, let us now face the ethical question on an ethical basis. Is angling cruel? People with a conscience who love their fishing rod are placed in a sad dilemma, as long as the question remains unanswered; and those who with Izaak Walton “love virtue and angling” will not grudge the time and trouble involved in answering it thoroughly: and no answer but a thorough answer really meets the case.
A.A. Luce, philosopher, fly fisher, and clergyman. From Fishing and Thinking, 1959.
The River — a Film by Claudiu Presecan — and The Things that Matter
October 14, 2013This last summer I had the pleasure of fishing some Transylvanian streams for wild brown trout and grayling. I have grown to enjoy other parts of the Carpathians (my brother-in-law lives on the edges, in Hungary), but this was my first trip Transylvania. I was invited to fish there by Claudiu Presecan, a gifted painter. Claudiu and I share the feeling that activities such as fly fishing can create a space in our lives, from which we can better appreciate the enduring, material world around us — the things that exist beyond money, status, and the other most superficial features of “culture.” Claudiu and his family served as my hosts in Romania. They were joined in this task by Claudiu’s fly fishing friends Paul Sas (of Xander Fly Rods) and Dan Sacui. I really enjoyed my time talking, eating, drinking, and fly fishing with all of them. I am genuinely eager to do so again.
As the world seems to shrink and the consequences of our and others’ actions increase in speed, it is becoming harder to avoid discussing controversial social topics. This may be especially the case in parts of Central and Eastern Europe. Of course, many of these topics need to be dealt with head on. But some of them are best put aside. When one of these difficult topics would appear on the conversational horizon, during my visit to Romania, I noticed that Claudiu would simply say, “That doesn’t matter.” It was such a simple and decisive way of focusing people’s attention (including my own) upon the topics that do really matter. To Claudiu, his friends, me, and many others, the environment and the connections that it makes possible to fellow outdoor sportspersons, people of other cultures, nonhuman beings, and even our creator are the topics of greatest importance. You can see this understanding in Claudiu’s short film, The River, and you can it reflected in his beautiful paintings as well.
The Literary Fly Fisher 