This gallery contains 22 photos.
The Wonderbat 106-6/7 (the flagship model of Gronkworks Fly Fishing LLC‘s virtually unheard-of Spwitch series) is a … rod rebuilding project? Aftermarket modification? Butt-heinous ugly? A repurposed cheapo Sierra Trading Post 10′ 6/7 weight that some bright-eyed and dauntless future blogger looked at and thought: “You know what would really set this off? A detachable fighting butt that’s long enough to work as a bottom grip.”
Truth in advertising: this happened a long time ago. I busted the end cap off the reel seat, replaced it with one that had a threaded female fitting for the detachable fighting butt, and epoxied it in place over the end of the blank (no photographic documentation of this process, sorry). Unfortunately, the head that would make this hoopty kick was still years away, not even a twinkle in Scientific Anglers’ eye.
But now it’s here, and the Wonder Bat is here, and the fall run is starting, and the 320 Skagit Extreme shows promise after some grass casting, and the Dark One, pervert that he is, is already out of Babylon and finding fish.
Good Friday to you, citizens.
There is much to love here: chartreuse stuff, a soundtrack not unlike what plays in my head whilst tying and fishing #24 tricos in gin clear water, sweet Squier bass, fugly folded over foam strip aesthetic, hot warmwater action (warm hotwater action?), a nice plain dark gray t-shirt, tying table in practice space, split screen program. Let’s all enjoy.
ISO: Brutal and stupid, teeth a plus. Must like hot weather. You – not leader shy. Me – high on glue. Let’s get together.
Hola, amigos. How’s your pecker? Been a long time since I rapped atcha, but I come to you at the turn of the tide, sitting in shorts and bare feet, the weather warming and the season open, the color of my beer gone, since my last dispatch, from dark to yella, and Squatto back from Drifty Valhalla.
Which, turns out, is in Stearns County.
And then an observation: trout tying, with its soaked biots and #19 wide-gape barbless so and so’s … a companion to fine single malts. Warmwater tying, I am rediscovering tonight, is a prepubescent throwback to model airplane glue. Shit be all Zap-a-Gap and nail polish up in this silent sport.
What are your ferrules wearing right now?
Der Krieger reminds us old fuckers to svup it hard lest we be outcast by Justin Bieber in Belize.
Takket vaere Slint for the video, takket vaere Google for the Danish.
Fly anglers, let’s talk on-stream eyewear.
I am nearsighted. I am too lazy for contacts, and too chickenshit to get Lasik (as designated driver for my nearsighted wife, I watched Ms. Chili get Lasiked on CCTV at the optometrist – scared straight, kids). My night vision is actually quite good, and I can make the love without my glasses on (but the lights stay off, and I cry), but I am committed to a pursuit that requires excellent vision and depth perception, polarized lenses for seeing through the water, and protection from sunlight, and the prescription required by my weak-ass, cold-got-a-late-pass-from-natural-selection eyes precludes the wraparound shape of prescription sunglasses that the cool kids sport. I’ve tried plain old prescription sunglasses that didn’t wrap around, but the glare from the sides on a bright day made me so sad. Smith Optics be all Boston Butt smoked over post oak splits, Lenscrafters be all canned ham in the cafeteria.
I can feel it. The Monster has this same rod. It can be done.
In fairness, she totally would have ringadinged some sunnies last May at age 2 had we brought more than one hook to lose to the underside of the dock.
It’s that time again. Crap must be reorganized. All that is old shall be made new, or at least all the old shall be made to be put in new Akro-bins from my new favorite store. On the docket: reorg the warmwater materials storage, reorg and restock the early season-slash-go-anywhere trout box, inventory tippet, clean some lines, lube some reels, wax some ferrules. And what’d be smart is to get a head start on tying for the spring stands on the ROP. And prototype some warmwater monstrosities.
Ah, what’s the point … we’re all going to die. Continue reading
I am not a prayerful man, and this is not in Polish, but as we turn our eyes thaw-ward to Spawn 2012 and the bounty promised unto us therein, please take the life choices illustrated below under advisement: Continue reading