Wednesday, July 16, 2014

Writing

We are clearly too busy to write anything here. But way back in June we did have what can accurately be described as an interesting road trip to Indiana; a time that was undoubtedly therapeutic. More accounts will be written. There are also some photographs.

More T? 

In the meantime, Steve Zakur has more time on his hands and has already written two excellent articles describing our road trip to Brayshaw's India.

You should read the stories in Hatch magazine - the outbound journey here http://www.hatchmag.com/articles/hundred-mile-latte/7711496 and the homeward dash here http://www.hatchmag.com/articles/chasing-lightning/7711536.

If you don't already, you should also patronize Steve's blog, Sipping Emergers.

You will just have to wait for what happened in the middle, probably when the three of us have the faintest idea what went on.


Fishers of men

Jonny


Monday, June 2, 2014

Journal Entry: June 2, 2014.




Journal Entry for June 2, 2014:

We’ve been in the Indiana Territory for many months now, and progress has been made but it’s still unclear whether the outpost will be ready when English Jonny and his Sherpa porter arrive. There is some confusion because Jonny is unaware that the Indiana Territory is, in fact, west of his New England home.  Like most Brits and Great Brits (and unlike that of most Americans) Jonny’s grasp of world geography is tenuous at best.

Jonny departs; heads west


Heads east?

English Jonny on earlier trip



But his porter is the one they call “Z”, who is reputed to be good and can speak and write English. 

The one they call "Z" brings whisky
 

I have secured wood for the fire pit and believe there is enough.  Recently, I set out in the hopes of finding meat and was pleasantly surprised when, instead of the weeks’ long journey I was expecting, I found a trading post just 15 minutes away.  The meat vendor would not accept beads or several beaver pelts but would take only cash money. I had some and was able to procure the rib portion of a hog.  With my Bowie knife I made short work of the portions and, having produced fire, was able to cook it.  Unfortunately, I fear it will not last until Jonny and the one they call “Z” arrive; we will probably have to procure more.  Whisky stores appear sufficient at this time, though the men* continue to drink them at a pace that must be checked if we are to have enough. [*Editor's note: there is currently only one man at the Indiana Territory outpost.  It's Brayshaw.]









The women and children here are pleasant enough and work hard, but the demands they place on my time are remarkable.




I have tried to convey the gravity of the situation to them, but so far they seem unwilling or unable to appreciate the importance of scouting new water routes and tying flies.  











I can only hope they will be able to fend for themselves once Jonny, the one they call “Z” and I begin our explorations, lest we return to find the outpost deserted or, worse yet, occupied by the natives.




We have seen no bears yet.


Monday, May 26, 2014

May

May is best. The in-laws live on the border of CT and NY. After a delightful supper with Z and his bride the evening before, it was brook trout in the yard and wild brownies in the hills of the local Reservation. After recent rains and falling, stained streams, the fish were more than willing, as they usually are in May. But first, we'd sharpen up at our Guilford pond.

Traditional verge cutting in Guildford, CT.
Size 12, long shank, 2x strong.
First of the year. A good one.
NY reservation turkey
The sky held.
As perfect a stream as I know.
Wild brown trout

Scenes from the Reservation, NY

The Old Oak, down but still there.

Wild brownie.
NYC tap water.


Back in the Yard.
 
A Native.


English Jonny, in clover.
Yellow Stone.


Large, Wild Eastern Brook Trout.

I married well.

Jonny










Wednesday, May 7, 2014

Fresh

It’s interesting to consider that at the very same time that Jonny’s coastal stripers are beginning to wake, our own land-locked cousins, the white and yellow bass, are doing the same. Their small size and willingness to bite give them an innocence one doesn’t tend to associate with their salty kin, but as I said a year ago and repeat here now: the spring bass run is exactly as it should be…more so after a winter like that we just had. 





I’ve yet to luck into any large whites – the egg-laden females that can be 16 inches or more and push two or three pounds – but a few of this spring’s fish have been better than last year’s, and the few yellow bass I’ve caught have been quite impressive (for yellow bass.) Today, though, the fish were hard to come by. My wife and I spent a leisurely morning on the stream, her mostly after warblers and I after bass. I managed just two, but together she and I saw just short of a dozen species of warblers (Yellow, Yellow-rumped, Bay-breasted, Palm, Blackburnian -my favorite, Prothonotary, Magnolia, Golden-winged, Chestnut-sided, Yellow-throated, Waterthrush and Common Yellowthroat).














Yellow bass are handsome


T.J. Brayshaw is handsome

It's how I roll (cast)


This Prothonotary came in close

What you usually see