This has been, for the most part, a really miserable week as far as fly fishing. As I said on Monday I was having that feeling of being a sharecropper in dry weather.
It's amazing what some of us will do to get that fix that we so badly need. Today, I took a so-called lunch hour and went to the river. At the river's edge I tie on the red-throat brown bugger and sent the ol' chap sailing - sailing backwards into the tree line where he became terribly entangled.
Freeing my friend I wade back out into the river and sent him the second voyage of this day. Soon, he would reward me with a small, but feisty bow.
That seemed to be enough. I spool up and return to the schooner to leave. A lunch hour goes fast when getting to and from the river takes the better part of twenty minutes, gearing up and down takes a good ten, and then getting our flies free of the clutches of the trees burns another five or so.
It was all okay though - that rush that came courtesy of one trout traveled through my veins - the body and soul relaxed with just that one fish in my hand.
I say all was okay... but, it really wasn't. I fished the lower end of Ted's Pool today on the northeast side bank. Saturday I was at this same exact spot fishing and after being rewarded handsomely by the river I did a good cleaning of the bank where the bait fishers sit.
On the way to this pool this afternoon I met four bait anglers coming out and we exchanged friendly greetings. Once I got to the bait-chunking sitting bank, it was unbelievable what I was seeing. The bank was totally trashed. There was an empty can of whole kernel corn, Dr. Pepper cans, and a empty plastic container of pimento cheese just to name some of the trash. Pimento cheese? Are they trying to give these fish heartburn?
Then, looking into the shrub line behind the bank I discover how the angling community have been trying to hide their trash within the cover of the thick shrubbery and brush. It's absolutely shameful!
I picked up one single piece of trash to carry out with me and intentionally left the rest. Sometime this weekend I'll go back to this spot just to see if anyone else has made an effort to remove the refuse from the river. If not, I'll do it - just call my action today an exercise in trying to understand certain river culture.
Field Test Report On Alaskan Amber
After enjoying the bottle of Alaskan Amber that Michael Mercurio gifted me recently, it is now time to post a field test report on said beer.
Alaskan Amber is a beer that certainly has taste... particularly to someone who has consumed light beers for many years.
You can expect about a one and half or a two finger head from Alaskan Amber with somewhat of a red color when poured into a glass (which I usually don't).
Upon first taste your palate will dance to the slight bite of this amber and somehow to me it was so reminding of a similar biting, but wonderful, beer I drank years ago - Jax.
However, unlike Jax, Alaskan Amber will deliver a wonderful aroma much like light cream and nutmeg perhaps. It is a wet beer and slides down quite easily.
The aroma of the beer is pleasant and I can see how the senses could easily cry-out for more.
So, in the overall assessment of Alaskan Amber the question begs, "How good is it?"
And, the answer to that question is... it's good enough to induce a fellow to think about moving to Alaska somewhere near the Kenai River.