Solidarity...

Months ago I raised my pitchfork and cried out against the word verification captcka... lately many of my Brave blogger friends have removed this horrific control setting from their accounts, leaving themselves open to bots and crazys who could leave whatever they wish as a comment, I find the move forward honest and genuine.. I join them today, in an act of solidarity, brotherhood... agreement, I have removed word verification and comment moderation from my blog.. please, no comments about hair removal or what you have seen Katie Perry doing with Taylor Swift.. this is a fishing blog.. I think? Tight lines Ya'll-

Muh!

No posts, pictures, links... absent without a note from my parents, in september my son ask me, "Dad, what was fishing like when you were a kid?"... simple, worms, hookin dragonfly nymphs and hopper through the thorax.. bull trout and cutts and warm days.. level lines and $25 flyrods.. Im tired of the wild steelhead coalition, trout unlimited.. pebble mine, low returns.. native rights.. I did not get into this game to be a politician, For the last three months Ive been living inside of my own heart, just fishin.. I have missed just fishing.. I have no need for affirmation or pictures.. I simply have walked alone and casted for the sake of a cast.. it has been nice, I feel social again- Brad

Merry Christmas!

Santa is aloft, Norad is heating up the radar and children all over the world can hardly contain their exitement.. tomorrow is the most beautiful of days, the celibration of our saviours birth, I am a fortunate soul.. I will take time tomorrow to think of and pray for those who are less fortunate, away from their families or worse..have no families, I have recieved every gift that is required for me to be filled with happiness... God bless us, every one- Brad

The Riverkeeper on Facebook

I have always tried to keep this blog about fishing, I have never tried to promote it really in any way. Alot of you would be suprised to know that none of my family and most of my friends do not even know it exists... I,ve kept it that way for the most part to avoid being chastized for how much I fish, and in part because I wished to see how many stranger would be interested, not because they knew me, but because they enjoyed the blog... as far as I can tell that makes about 48 of you..thanks for following. I am coming out of the blogging closet, this week I will spread the word amongst my family, friends, and peers and the joy and exitement of the Riverkeeper page can now be enjoyed by the world.. not just the fishing blogger cult. I have started a facebook page and have provided the essential link to go there and "like" the Riverkeeper.. The reason for this is that while on the road and traveling for work I have many adventures that I would like to share on this blog, but as time passes the trips fade into the past and never make the blog. My Iphone and facebook are a match made in Heaven, I can post photos, videos and short blurbs about trips anywhere I have a cell signal.. I hope this keeps folks in touch better than when I would simply dissapear for 2 months... sooo if you like the blog... you will love the Facebook. Once I reach 100 "likes" I will draw a name from that group and give them a $100 bill to go buy some cool swag of their own choice.. and Cash always leaves out the Guvment if ya know what I mean- Thank you all, good fishin.... and press "Like" - Brad

Victory-

As my good friend Waco say's.. a picture is worth a thousand words.. they are indeed here, 2 for 3 with 5 months to go... Hatchery Buck and a Native hen.. God I love this-

IN THE RING OF THE RISE

The Gear is stowed in the truck, The cold frost that adorned the windshield and handle confirmed that it is time, the turkey is gone, even the horrid turkey sandwich left overs that uncle Stew dreams of all year.. The steelhead counter has been re-set, the score is 0/0 in the first with 5 months to go.. winter steel starts for me in the morning, Im so exited I could shit. Age has not loosed the grip that the anticipation of fishing has upon me, same as it ever was, 4 or 40... the fish still haunt me. This house is a prison to my ambition tonight.. if I fished a river further away I could start driving soon... Seeking solice I reach for one of my favorite books, IN THE RING OF THE RISE by Vincent C. Marinaro.. in my opinion the most important book ever written about fishing I pour myself 2 fingers of Absinthe ( thank you my online friends in a former soviet republic) shut off all but the reading light and continue reading a book that I have read at least 5 times.. sleep will find me soon, and then I will awake and step into the cold air letting it fill my lungs, I hope its cold enough to hurt.. I need it to hurt ( but warm up by ten or so ) they have come home, they always come home.. the only real constant in my life. If you are trying to think of a nice gift to purchase the fisherman in your life for Christmas Vincents book is an enlightening look at trout behavior and rise forms.. a must read- Happy holidays everyone.

Of Bucks and Brown Trout

A few weeks ago I packed the family up and headed up to the Okanogan in central Washinton to lake Chelan for some wine tasting, fishing and relaxing. While we were there we watched Indian summer disapate into true fall, with a hint of winter.. every morning the view changed, first termination dust frosted the distant Canadian peaks, the next morning it dusted the surrounding hills and by Tuesday the true snow line marked 4000' feet.. and each day after crept lower. Deer season was in full swing, the small mountain lake full of Brown Trout was all but forgotten by all to the dreams of a trophy Muley or maybe a fine spike for the freezer. I had not forgotten the lake. The lust to hunt deer that used to haunt me earlier in life has now moved into a different room in my heart, climbing rugged mountains and endless glassing has become a fond memory for me.. I do not hunt deer anymore, and I don't even know why. Perhaps some day the path I am on, and that path will meet again but for now my rifles rust. The friendship started easily enough in the dim morning light, trying to take advantage of the hour before light to latch into a brute spawner cruising the shallows I had worked my way around to the backside of the lake away from the road. I listened as dozens of trucks and s.u.v's headed up deep into the mountains. The lake is a well protected position for trout, reeds like ramparts gaurd most of it shoreline, milfoil and an acompanyment of other garbage choke the edges beyond, I was trying to exploit the spots I refer to as lake pocket water, the holes between the weeds and milfoil, casting an olive wool headed sculpin on a sink-tip with my echo 4wt switch. The additional length of the switch allows for getting above the reeds for a cast, the 4wt part makes the 12-20'' Browns fun to play with. I had just finished releasing a nice Brown when I heard a noise behind me, turning to look.. then freezing, the first thought through mind mind... 200.. gotta be 200. The Giant Muley buck was froze aswell, both of us realizing we were not quite as alone in this world as we thought. His grey face, jet black fore head, massive sweeping rack, matching drop tines with a perfect deep front forks and a crown for the back.. a perfect 6x6 with a little garbage, but mostly just mass.. and at least a 24 inch inside spread.. a perfect buck. We both stared at one another as we listened to another vehicle slowly move up the road. I wispered at him.. "I won't tell" and he cautiously turned and moved away, up the ridge and bedded on a knoll overlooking the lake and road, and much like Yeti's, Unicorns, and sexy one night stands... I never got a good picture of him.. But his image will be burned in my memory, for the rest of my life-