Tired

Its been almost two months since I’ve had time to write anything for this site. I feel guilty… but mostly I just feel tired. What I haven’t done… fish, take pictures, take the dogs for adventures in the woods, and any of the other things that I like to write about here. What I have done is work, and then work some more, and then after that, work some more. Then finally, I just fall into a chair until bedtime. One thing that took a lot of time, but was fun and interesting too, was to help my son find a new apartment and then move in. He was living in a large apartment house, nice, but more like a dormitory than a home. Apologies to those of you who may enjoy living in large apartment houses, but my son was raised in the country where the nearest neighbor is about 1000 feet away. Living is a big box full of little rooms wasn’t really his favorite thing. But it was a nice place and it served his needs well for three years.

Finally, he found a place he likes really well. Its the second floor of an older home built in 1925. He has a full second-story front porch, a gas fireplace, built-in display cabinets with real leaded glass doors, and hardwood floors everywhere except the one carpeted bedroom. Although old, its been modernized and is in beautiful shape. He painted three rooms before he moved in and will probably paint the dining and living rooms after he has lived there awhile. Best of all, its much closer to where he works. Shorter drive and he can sleep later too. Talking about sleep, I’m tired… more later after a short nap. zzzzZZZZZ…..

Playing with my new toy

I'm hooked!

I love digital photography!

I have so much more to learn, but I'm having a ball doing it. I'm playing around with White Balance and Exposure Compensation and taking more pictures than I ever did before.

Great Fun! Here's some more examples:

New Toy

I have enjoyed photography for many years as a hobby and, at times, a business. I even worked part-time in a camera store for almost eleven years selling cameras and camera equipment just for the fun of it. Finally, after all those years of film – 35mm, medium format, APS, Disk film, etc. – about a year ago I bought my first digital camera. It is a little Nikon Point-and-Shoot with about a 5 megapixel resolution. I immediately fell in love with it. So what did I do? I gave it away. Why? So I could get another newer one with even more bells and whistles, what else?

Having been steeped in the old film technology, I am finding that shooting digital is quite different. The results may appear the same, but getting there is a whole different trip. The main advantage that I find in shooting digital is that I can take as many pictures as I want. When shooting film, there is always the thought at the back of your head that each shot will cost something to develop and print before you can even see your picture. With digital, I can shoot hundreds of pictures and just delete the bad ones or keep them all to pick only those that I wish to print. I get a lot more practice actually taking pictures. It’s great! And the little camera is so small and easy to take with me that I am taking more pictures than I ever did before. And that’s fun!

And now I have ascended to a new level of fun. A couple of weeks ago, my wife got me a new digital SLR as an anniversary present. I can only say; “WOW”! Maybe later I’ll write a post about the camera itself, but for now, I think I’ll just show some of the pictures.

Nymphing

The morning was beautiful and clear. A faint morning mist rising from the river was rapidly fading, burned off by the bright sun which turned the water into a brilliant shinning highway twisting through the woods. We parked at a wide spot in the road and climbed into our specialized equipment – no simple stick, line and hook for this intrepid trio. Then we trudged a quarter mile or so to find just the right spot; guided by our very own (for the day) fishing guru dedicated to revealing the ancient secrets of the brown trout and the Clear Fork. About this time I was wondering whose bright idea is was to wend through heavy brush and trees carrying a nine foot pole and wearing rubber pants and thick soled boots. Anyway, we finally made it to the water’s edge and descended into the rapid flow; and somehow we all accomplished this without anyone actually falling into the river. Teacher instructed us how to set up our equipment and we spread out to individually seek our fishy destiny.

Fly fishing is definitely not sitting around watching a float and just waiting for it to bob or slide or even disappear, initiating a frantic reaction by the fisherman and, I’m sure, an equally panicked reaction by friend fish. Nor is it the constant throwing – winding, throwing – winding of the bait or spin caster as he tries to entice friend fish out for a tasty tidbit. Understand that I do not mock or belittle these methods; I have done both a-plenty and I’m sure I will do both again in the future. However, the fly fisherman gets right into the fishy domain and tests wills directly with his piscatorial prey.

I am standing in about four feet of rapidly flowing water not quite halfway across the river. I have set up my line with two flies representing the nymph of the Mayfly and a small strike indicator to help signal any changes to the drift of the line. I cast about 20 or 25 feet upstream and toward the other side of the river, then frantically strip line to take in the slack as it returns toward me in the current. The goal is to have the flies appear to the fish as freely floating insect nymphs (trout food) drifting downstream toward the hungry fish. As the strike indicator slips past me, I must carefully lift the floating line up and above the lures to maintain the drag free drift of the nymphs. This is called mending the line. At the slightest hesitation or change in the direction of the strike indicator, I quickly tug the line to try to set the hook. Many times it is the hooks catching on rocks or debris on the bottom. But, finally, I am rewarded by the surge of a trout wondering what that delicious little treat really was. I carefully strip line, keeping the rod high and working the quarry close enough to slip the net under his fat little form. I have caught a nice ten inch brown trout, light brown on his back, nearly white on his underside, and his sides covered in yellow and red spots. A truly beautiful fish – and my first trout caught with a fly rod.

I want to do it again!

Some Excellent Advice

Everyone has heard (and understands) that old adage “Don’t eat yellow snow”! Here’s a few other equally important admonishments to ponder:

• Never wake a sleeping dog by poking it under the tail with your toe.
• If the deal seems too good to be true, it probably isn’t.
• While it is certainly a good idea to keep yourself healthy, always remember that being healthy is merely the slowest way to die.
• If you are feeling blue, start breathing again.
• Be careful when you consider taking up a “hobby”. The word “hobby” is very often just a word to disguise what is really an obsessive-compulsive-disorder.
• Be careful what you say to people. You never know which words you might have to eat.
• Consider the pain when you really want something; We usually contemplate the pain of not getting what we want. However, often we discover there is also pain when we do get what we want.
• Be cautious of a gift with strings attached, that is not a gift, but an arrangement.
• Yesterday is dead and gone; tomorrow hasn't yet arrived. Therefore, there is really only one day. Be happy in it.
• If you can't have what you want, then want what you have.
• Just because someone doesn't love you the way you want them to, doesn't mean they don't love you with all they have.
• Oh yeah… and don’t eat yellow snow!

Going Back…

They say that you can never go back again. For the most part, I guess that I agree with that. The one constant in life is that nothing is constant; there is always change. But in a way, I am going back… and I’m really enjoying it. As I described in an earlier post, I am finding my way back to fly fishing, practiced (poorly) for many years, and abandoned when time became a precious commodity to be used for other things.

I procured my fishing license ($19 at the local WalMart) which cedes me the official blessing to try to capture any of those various elusive fishies which reside in Ohio’s lakes and waterways. I gathered up all my new equipment – rod, reel, tackle box, belt pack, etc., etc… all the assorted junk we fishermen seem to think we need. (Notice that I count myself as a fisherman now, but this is yet to be proven.) Oh, and my wife’s dog too. I wanted an audience to approve of my successes, but I didn’t want anyone who could laugh at my failures. The dog worked fine. And I headed to the nearest lake. I picked a weekday afternoon – less people to see me (see above about laughter) and no crowd near the water’s edge leaving me plenty of room for my back casts.

Well I had a ball. Most of the old skills are coming back. I was able to get the line out there for 50 to 60 feet and even handled the wind fairly well. I did have a few line pile-ups when my timing was off, and I got a few “wind knots” in my leader from getting my loop too tight; but all-in-all, the dog didn’t laugh too much. It was fun! I didn’t catch any fish, but I did get a few strikes on my fly which is encouraging and fun. The dog had a good time too.

I’ve gone out once again since then too. The second time I took my wife and both dogs. It was OK, the laughter was minimal. I guess the sum result is: Who cares if you make a fool of yourself, as long as everybody has fun.

This is really taking me back. Back to those days when I rode my bicycle for miles just to spend the afternoon fishing. Back to my first tentative casts with a hunk of flyline on a pole.

Who says that you can’t go back. Phooey on them!

Tommy and The Squidge
Tommy was the ruler over all that he could see;
The beds and dishes all were his, and all the toys were free.
Of treats and snacks, he claimed them all, and wolfed them down with glee;
And picked the lap on which to lie and sleep so peacefully.
For many years he reigned supreme, and planned to never end;
For Tommy’s world was as he wished, on this he could depend.

But suddenly the Squidge arrived, invading Tom’s domain;
He’s short and long, with silky hair, and Toby is his name.
He plays with all of Tommy’s toys and sleeps in Tommy’s bed;
And eats Tom’s food and steals the snacks and wants to rule instead.
Squidgy has the world upset and Tommy is chagrined;
But even though he rules no more, his love he’ll not rescind.