Category Archives: On The Fly

Scott Wells fine art showing at Hapa Sushi Boulder

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My dear friend Scott Wells has been described as a cantankerous bugger. But I want him on the oars when a there’s a freaky drop downriver, and I probably want him right next to me in case a nasty bar fight breaks out too. He’s also one heck of an artist, and I want his Gyotaku art hanging on the walls of my home. Oops, I forgot it already is…

Wells Brown Trout

Gyotaku art dates back to 13th century Japan. Then and there, anglers recognized their prized catches through the ink prints; the method is recognized as one of the earliest forms of taxidermy. Mr. Wells happened upon a book of Gyotaku prints, sans even one single word. He was fascinated by what he saw, and set out to understand how they were created. Scott then spent time at Bristol Bay Lodge’s Artist-In-Residence program, a creative conclave put together by none other than Bob White, who also contributes the cover art (and some superb writing) for Pulp Fly.

Three years and roughly two hundred pieces into the portfolio, Scott is unveiling his work to the public. The place is Hapa Sushi, Boulder, 1117 Pearl Street to be exact. The date is Tuesday, May 7th, at 7pm sharp.

Scott hails from Littleton, CO, where he lives with his wonderful wife Janet and his seven year old son Patch (who has every girl in the neighborhood swooning). The Wells work available for sale presently consists of roughly a dozen impeccably framed unique pieces, hanging at Hapa Sushi Boulder and Trout’s Fly Fishing in Denver. And should you miss this first showing, Scott Wells work will be back at Hapa Sushi Lodo, in June, and Hapa Sushi, Cherry Creek, in July.

MG signing off (because the Wells Gyotaku print in my office is not for sale, but you can buy me a drink if you like)

The Old and Bitter

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YOURS TRULY: I need that signed document as soon as possible.

THE IMPETUOUS: I sent it two weeks ago via Priority Mail.

YOURS TRULY: Ok…thanks.

[two minutes eleven seconds later]

THE IMPETUOUS: Have you checked your mail in the last two weeks?!

YOURS TRULY: Uh…I’ve been fishing.

[nine seconds later]

THE IMPETUOUS: That’s what I thought.

YOURS TRULY: Hmm…almost sounds like nagging.

THE IMPETUOUS: I hereby declare that is precisely what it is.

[smiles]

The old and bitter hold steadfast on the shop floor, waxing irritably of bygone days i.e. before anglers wore Buffs on the rivers. Then claim they are the reason Buffs exist to begin with. The audience would rather choose their flies and GTFO. Sitting at the bench, mumbling to yet another derivation of the RS2, dreams of book contracts dance in their heads. Only five copies will ever sell. Damn that YouTube.

No time to sum up a fishing story. Because there isn’t one. Gas prices are too high, enthusiastic friends are few, and/or the lawn needed mowing.

THE OLD AND BITTER: You put in as much time as I have and you would be old and bitter too.

NOT SO INNOCENT BYSTANDER: Not a chance. Nobody is getting dragged into that grave you’re digging but yourself.

The rest are having the times of their lives, casually deferring the tales to those that can tell them better. Getting hassled for having so much fun, and finding fun in that too.

MG signing off (because Chupacabras exist, and so do old, bitter fly anglers)

Portrait of a crappy spey caster

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We were done with the real fishing. After a lunch of Busch Light and Busch Light, we headed back down to the river.

At which point I put on a demonstration of how to forget everything taught to me during my last lesson.

Photo by Luke "Pointy Beard" Bever

Photo by Luke “Pointy Beard” Bever

I do believe the anchor popped AND I got smacked in the left cheek with the fly.

MG signing off (because the above described result is quite the accomplishment, at least in my book)

Steelhead Fishing: The Clarity Consumes, And Addicts

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I didn’t think much about swinging flies for steelhead. It seemed a passion for the insane – casting a thousand times for a single hook-up.

Having absorbed myself in the technique, I now find I’m consumed not by the opportunity of the catch itself – displayed via the Farcebooks and/or Twitlings of the angling world, instantaneous displays of self-gratification that now consume our angling environs – but by the simple pleasure of the cast.

In its own right.

I am once again lost. In defining the supposed skill it takes to deliver a package to a fish. Enticing said water-breather to accept.

Yet at the same time rejuvenated, by the simple concept of signing for it.

MG signing off (because the cast can be everything, no matter the size of the SD card)

Gear Review: The Slip Stops Here, With Simms Alumibite Cleats

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Simms Alumibite CleatsWe anglers are persistently striving for better footing while on the river. Beyond the obvious safety benefit, good traction makes for good posture, relieving back stress. It makes us feel more confident in our fishing, improving casting accuracy, and otherwise giving us peace of mind to concentrate on our end goal, catching fish.

Felt has never been the optimal solution. It provides nearly zero traction while hiking, and can be downright dangerous on grassy surfaces. It is a magnet for snow. And of course, it dries very slowly, potentially hosting a variety of biotic specie that are harmful to coldwater ecosystems.

Rubber soles were purportedly the solution to those problems, but they too have their inadequacies. While they provide excellent traction on the trail, their performance in the river, particularly where uneven bottoms and slick rock covering are the norm, is suspect. Several years back Simms introduced their Vibram sole, complete with a tread pattern that was supposed to compensate for previous rubber incarnations’ lacking. Actual reviews remained mixed, even though the author loves them because he mostly busts his ass reaching for the beer cooler in the back of the truck. And while Simms provided Rockwell hardened studs and their nifty Hardbite Star Cleats as compense, fly anglers are beasts that are difficult to appease.

Enter stage left: the Simms Alumibite cleats.

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To catch the fish, you must first attract the fish

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The best part of planning a fishing trip is..

A) Knowing you are getting some time off work
B) Figuring out which bag to put your toothbrush in
  or
C) Buying new gear

If you chose “C” you are obviously a seasoned traveling angler, having orchestrated numerous epic adventures, and likely caught trophy after trophy wherever the compass led you. Or, you could just be a renowned online fly-fishing journalist loudmouthed internet poseur/hack, like yours truly.

With a trip of my own just days away, I was found wanting. The Scott ARC 1196/4 I acquired a few months back via an exponentially complex barter transaction involving used office furniture, the United Nations Security Council, and the Smoking Man from The X-Files, was without a reel.

I thought about calling the G7 together for advice, but then I sobered up and rang Abel Reels instead. They did not disappoint.

Abel Switch Reel - Skull and Crossbones

A bonafide wolverine trapper recently “reminded” me that looks are all that matters. I presumed this meant they dressed up like a cute little bunny rabbit before heading to work, so I only partially bit. But, given that even a portion of that wisdom comes to pass, this rig’s appearance means the otherwise slim odds now distinctly favor running into chrome.

Or at least that’s my half-baked reasoning for taking option C.

MG signing off (because if you are going to freeze your butt off in BC, you might as well look good doing it)

Upgraded for maximum situational effectiveness

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Simms Vibram-soled boots kick felt butt around the water, and run a close second in it. But like racy motor cars, an upgrade to the rubber can further increase performance. Sometimes the situation requires you go big, or go home.

simmsalumibitecleats

The latter is not an option. Meanwhile, understanding my upcoming opponent is significantly nimbler than I, tuning for maximum efficacy was required.

MG signing off (to hit “the track” just seven days from now)