http://swittersb.wordpress.com/2008/07/19/french-flytying-astucesgood-instructions-tools/
http://voluntarybeatdown.blogspot.com/
Tuesday, August 07, 2007:
(re the know it all types from forums and shops)…..”anyway, more than anything he and his minions loved to debate about what was ethical with steelheading. now bear in mind these dudes seldom fish much and if they did, it was for summer runs. they loved to think the stupid things mattered, trying to define everything instead of letting shit be and being down with the vague beauty of it all, trying out new stuff and making the game their own. guess they really rodded off on making steelhead fishing more difficult than it really is, most likely because they just sucked at it and needed something to blame or something.”
“we make that observation freely admitting we suck at steelhead fishing as much as the next guy, as well, but whereas some dudes need to find an excuse for when the skunk saddles up and drop kicks your balls, we’re more into finding an excuse to go fishing again so we can understand a little more about why we keep getting kicked in the sack.”
Yes, it is crass and purposefully different writing than the boring text of most rags. But, you get the core point don’t you and if it resonates with you then keep an open mind. Yes, I am sure their are other counter culture practices I might not care for….but, as long as they promise to not become the next generation of snobs then I’m good.
Success breeds many things: contentment, comfort, worldliness, conceit, arrogance, envy and contempt. Flyfishing risks being depicted as the equivalent of fat cat Republicans or Democrats out of touch with core values and the common man. Beltway mentality that isolates. Such isolation infects the privileged if they don’t maintain a balance in life. The contempt for this arrogance is implicit in the new wave, I previously referenced in Flyfishing’s New Wave (Staid v. Edgy); July 12, 2008. The new wave is the rebellious bunch that I couldn’t hope to copy in their writing style. The new wave is anything but weak minded…crisp, sharp, witty, pissy and I have to say right on. Their contempt for flyfishing’s gurus would be borderline class envy bullshit that the left spews were it not for the true arrogance of their targeted contempt. They are right on.
Can there be any better line than the one above: ’…trying to define everything instead of letting shit be and being down with the vague beauty of it all, trying out new stuff and making the game their own. ’ I have written about ‘the moment’. Everything that infuses ego, arrogance and one-ups-manship only dilutes that moment. The moment should not be about ego but about pure joy….drunken joy over being in touch for that enduring moment. My comments are by no means a ‘beatdown’….I will leave it to the beatdown crew to nail the (”a famous steelheading dude with a famous bigass beard who might live out east of here and he used to talk tons of shit about us”) arrogant ones of Maupin, Welches, & Sisters.
The successes and blessings of their hard work and travels went to their head. Monied customers knelt at their feet and paid for the infusion of creds to enhance bragging skills. These past ski bums, hippies and renegades (pay attention beatdown crew) were the previous cutting edge and I am sure ruffled the feathers of the then stodgy elite. But, as said, their successes and cornering of the market went to their head. Manufacturing reps played into this by making only certain shops capable of carrying products, thereby excluding other shops as less worthy. A class system amongst the shops exists and the traveling know it alls move from shop to shop searching for the ego laden environment, where they can feel most at home spending, bragging and preening. Lost in all this is the ordinary flyfisher. Not just the new wave contingent, but all manner of hard working people, with little time, limited disposable income and only seeking real knowledge to experience the juice of ‘the moment’ (see June 14, 2008 post here: Why Flyfish~The Moment).
Note there are several excellent shops in Warm Springs, Portland, Tigard, Eugene, Bend, Redmond, Oregon and beyond in the NW. You are welcomed by decent men and women, who don’t cop an attitude. Equally traveled and storied but humble. Frequent these shops. Boycott the effete snobs; turn from them like an infectious rash.
http://mattstansberry.wordpress.com/2007/11/09/fly-fishing-blog-inspires-lofty-rants-on-the-industry/ (Upstream in Oregon is always right there….course I am a year late but I write as I feel it….so, I’m still behind the curve…just like school in the old days).
“..my toes are slipping as the gravel underneath them washes downstream,…”
“But that experience really helped reinforce the fact that I’m not nearly invincible, and a clear head and caution should prevail on the water. I also got the sense that death can be a really stupid, flippant event if you let it. Which is scarier than the river.”
As I checked Matt Stansberry’s blog, I read an account of a close call on the Deschutes River. He expressed the fear and evolving panic that took over as he was carried down the river. I have never learned to swim. I have had close calls (twice on the Kilchis R. once on Sandy R., once on the Minam R.) even in swimming pools. The fear is engrained whether wading or sitting on a pontoon boat. I have learned to cope, but I have always marveled at the pictures of steelhead anglers wading chest deep on the Deschutes R. while standing on bowling balls or shifting gravel. Reading Matt’s account, makes me feel more secure in my judgement to hold back a bit with my wading. I don’t assume any wading belt or over confidence in my swimming capabilities (which I don’t possess) will bring me through at the bottom of the drift should I go under. Matt’s remark about the shifting gravel was telling in that I recall an early November on the Deschutes R. fishing for Redsides below a Chinook redd. I recall edging out little by little on fairly firm gravel only to suddenly reach the edge, the drop and quickly eroding gravel as I started to go forward. The harder I pushed, the quicker I moved forward. Of course, by virtue of the fact I am writing this I managed to propel myself backwards with water over the top of my waders, my heart almost bursting with the exertion and the adrenaline dump making me off kilter for the next hour. Matt Stansberry’s post is a good reminder of how easily it happens and how death can smirk as it so easily grabs another. Read it and consider your wading practices and the reality of a misstep.
http://mattstansberry.wordpress.com/2008/06/24/near-death-on-the-deschutes-plus-more-photos/