The Contemplative Angler

Better Fishing Through Global Chaos

I wish to state now - well in advance - that I am not to blame for the "Great Blackouts of 2012!" I am simply offering insights which could transform a possible future of sitting quietly in your basement, enjoying a can of cold beans in the dark -- into some of the superb fishing opportunities that only global chaos and destruction provide!

As you are probably aware, the Solar Storms of 2012 will be the most impressive since 1958 - when the Aurora Borealis was seen in Mexico [1]! However, unlike 1958, we now have low-Earth-orbit communication satellites, an expanded electrical grid, and semi-conductors -- but not for long...

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Of Ducks and Men - Illustrated

A friend, and superb fly-tier, was lamenting to me today that whenever he used duck quills he could always find plenty of usable quills on the left wing, but fewer on the right. Immediately I understood the complete global implications of this information -- ducks don't actually migrate, but their stronger left wing causes them to fly in very large circles, of which we only detect the resting points...

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Catching a Decent Fish -- Illustrated

Not a rise...
If a friend hadn't assured me that this pool was the home of "some decent trout" I would have thought the water barren. Decent trout, indeed! But with that word "decent" came an epiphany - all my flies had been appealing to the trouts' sense of sight... but what about their sense of decency! These fish - if indeed they existed - had been blithely ignoring all my offerings. Surely, that was a shameful act from any "decent" trout!

With renewed energy, I positioned myself on a rock in mid-stream and began to regard the pool with disdain - then switched to moderate annoyance, accelerated through active pique, and arrived in seconds at a withering scorn.

Two minutes later, I saw a "nice" fourteen inch brown roll to the surface in humble chagrin... but I casually ignored him. A moment later a sixteen inch rainbow with a visible blush on its cheek wallowed in the tail of the pool. I glared at it with a Force Five Contempt - it gave a few feeble wiggles of its pectoral fin in mute apology and then died of shame. Rushing downriver, I netted my first "decent trout" as it drifted slowly by. My second fish, a very decent fifteen inch brookie, was taken on a single glance of reproach cast to the eddy behind a boulder.

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Why I Fish Barbless Flies -- Illustrated

I don't have close friends - not, at least, when I am fly fishing. There was one fellow I was attached to for quite some time, but we were finally able to extract the hook. He has since kept his distance...

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