The Great Shutdown

The sign posted on my office building, effective July 1, 2011:


Our wonderful State Legislature and Governor have failed to reach a budget agreement for Fiscal Year 2012, thereby laying off 56,000 of some of Minnesota's finest and most dedicated working professionals, including myself. I don't ask for your pity, nor for a handout, but I beg the question as to why it is de rigueur to bash public employees? Like every workforce, there are individuals who may lack motivation or abuse the system, knowing no discrimination between private or public sector. But why disrespect the countless professionals who have sacrificed family and salary for a career that is at times less than rewarding? We are taxpayers just the same as everyone else. Before you begin to pick apart my argument with baseless accusations and proclaim that we do not need government in our lives, just remember who helped make Minnesota's fisheries some of the best in the nation, if not the world, next time you're out on the water. You're welcome.

The roughfisher has left the building. See ya on the river.

FUBAR

WTF is up with gear these days? Manufacturers complain about recruitment and the often high barrier to enter this sport, yet they release stupid ass shit like a pair of goddamn nippers for $50 bucks. For fifty bones, that babdboy better be sporting a Class 4 laser that'll cauterize your tag ends of tippet. Recently read was a conversation debating the merits of zippered waders. No offense, but the items brought up for comparison were a couple of high buck models topping the charts at $425 and $450. $450! For a pair of waders!? What the hell has this industry come to? $450 waders puncture on barbed wire just as easily as a pair of $150 breatheables. Between angling, guiding, and my other occupation (fisheries management), I spend a lot of days in the water. Alot. I've been wearing the same beater pair of waders for going on 6 years now and not one hole or leak has sprung. Not one patch in those badboys. They aren't a pair of Patagucci or Simmps, but rather a $150 middle of the pack model store brand that didn't break the bank. What's the secret? I take care of them.

I'm not the only who's refusing to drink the kool-aid; I know of a fellow blogger and angler who'll soon be ditching his Simms for a similar performing "generic" at a quarter of the price. I'm not saying that the innovation or the technology that gear companies are bringing to the table are unappreciated, because I love gear. I'm a gear junky. But I don't believe that the bar for a mid-level piece of equipment should be set so high. Retail markup on soft goods are ridiculous. The same goes for hard goods in this industry; every "pro" knows the general rule of thumb for wholesale that a fly rod or reel is going for. Times are tough on everyone right now, but a $500 fly reel from a start up company is no way to enter the marketplace. Perhaps take a look at cutting profit margins a bit or ditch the no-fault warranties to move more product. I suppose you'd need to first move out of the Neolithic Age in order to begin embracing the principles of micro and macro economics in the Digital Age. All I know is that an $1100 spey rod isn't going to curry much favor with recruiting folks from the bait dunking and gear tossing crowd. Bubba ain't gonna pay $1100 for any gear but a new compound bow or an AR-15.

So what to do about those extravagant markups? It used to be in the past that the industry just held us all hostage. Unless you were on a pro plan, you had to pay full retail for gear. It took a great deal of time and resource to become outfitted with enough gear to meet your needs and interests; likely more than you paid for your first car, for some, maybe your first house. It seems the prices of these items just kept rising with the times, often higher than the rate of inflation. Where did the profits all go? Aside from a handful of companies, I can tell you where they didn't go: back to the resource. Likely, those huge margins went to stock fridges full of Nestle bottled water and wild PNW steelhead in more than a few executives' guest ranches on a reach of private water on some stream that we all wished we could afford to fish. Lucky for us consumers, a few folks fed up with the whole scene had the balls enough to put themselves out there and found companies that stand for something. Companies like Rise Fishing Co. are selling high end rods at guide prices and donating 20% of their proceeds to fishy causes. These are the guys that are making a difference. They are building a nice user base that will be around long after the old schoolers die off, likely taking a few of the aloof, apathetic companies with them. I say good riddance. Either change with the times or die off. It's called survival of the fittest; natural selection.

If you're in the industry, do me a solid and check out this piece on Angling Trade about the Bristol Bay Academy and see what you can do to help. If you're not, check out organizations like fishy kid, the TU conservation and fishing camp, or the National Fly Fishing in School Program and help get our youth involved. It's up to us because clearly, the mainstream industry isn't doing anything about it. All they care about is whether or not they should get their next pair of nippers in the Brook Trout or Cutthroat Trout graphic finish.

Under the Influence

Everyone seems to want to be writing up a best of show awards from the recent 2010 IFTD show in Denver earlier this month. Not to be outdone, here are a few of the *high*lights from Denver according to the roughfisher.


BEST FILM: 2010 Drake Film Awards

When Guiding Goes Gangster from RA Beattie on Vimeo.

BEST COSTUME: ¡El bandito!


BEST STREAMSIDE INVASIVE SPECIES: Humulus lupulus


BEST TRUCKER HAT: Kyle "Mr. Social Media" Perkins


BEST STREAMSIDE SCORE: Ribbed for her pleasure


BEST FISH PORN: Roughfisher's mirror from the DSP, Gracie behind the lens


BEST SPREAD: Gracie's house


BEST POSEUR: Gracie at the casting pond


BEST BROMANCE: "When Gracie Met Roughie"


BEST PARTY FOUL: 2010 Drake Film Awards After Party

Bravo! Looks like next year's competition in the Big Easy will be tough to beat...

Throwing Stones

Fuck you BP, fuck you corporate America, and fuck you all you fucking fucks who have sold the environment short just to make a fucking buck. FUCK YOU.

Picture a bright blue ball, just spinning, spinnin free,
Dizzy with eternity.
Paint it with a skin of sky,
Brush in some clouds and sea,
Call it home for you and me.
A peaceful place or so it looks from space,
A closer look reveals the human race.
Full of hope, full of grace
Is the human face,
But afraid we may lay our home to waste.

There's a fear down here we can't forget.
Hasn't got a name just yet.
Always awake, always around,
Singing ashes, ashes, all fall down.
Ashes, ashes, all fall down.

Now watch as the ball revolves
And the nighttime falls.
Again the hunt begins,
Again the bloodwind calls.
By and by, the morning sun will rise,
But the darkness never goes
From some men's eyes.
It strolls the sidewalks and it rolls the streets,
Staking turf, dividing up meat.
Nightmare spook, piece of heat,
It's you and me.
You and me.

Click flash blade in ghetto night,
Rudies looking for a fight.
Rat cat alley, roll them bones.
Need that cash to feed that jones.
And the politicians throwin' stones,
Singing ashes, ashes, all fall down.
Ashes, ashes, all fall down.

Commissars and pin-stripe bosses
Roll the dice.
Any way they fall,
Guess who gets to pay the price.
Money green or proletarian gray,
Selling guns 'stead of food today.

So the kids they dance
And shake their bones,
And the politicians throwin' stones,
Singing ashes, ashes, all fall down.
Ashes, ashes, all fall down.

Heartless powers try to tell us
What to think.
If the spirit's sleeping,
Then the flesh is ink
History's page will thus be carved in stone.
And we are here, and we are on our own
On our own.
On our own.
On our own.

If the game is lost,
Then we're all the same.
No one left to place or take the blame.
We can leave this place and empty stone
Or that shinin' ball we used to call our home.

So the kids they dance
And shake their bones,
And the politicians throwin' stones,
Singing ashes, ashes, all fall down.
Ashes, ashes, all fall down.

Shipping powders back and forth
Singing black goes south and white comes north.
In a whole world full of petty wars
Singing I got mine and you got yours.
And the current fashion sets the pace,
Lose your step, fall out of grace.
And the radical, he rant and rage,
Singing someone's got to turn the page.
And the rich man in his summer home,
Singing just leave well enough alone.
But his pants are down, his cover's blown...

And the politicians throwin' stones,
So the kids they dance
And shake their bones,
And it's all too clear we're on our own.
Singing ashes, ashes, all fall down.
Ashes, ashes, all fall down.

Picture a bright blue ball,
Just spinnin', spinnin, free.
Dizzy with the possibilities.

"Throwing Stones" Words by John Perry Barlow; music by Bob Weir. Copyright Ice Nine Publishing.

Squirrel Pelt

In a classic move in search of some squirrel hides for making dubbing, I stumble across the Squirrel Pelt. Behold Natures' glory, the Ape Drape is back and in full force. Gotta love a good Kentucky Waterfall when you see one.

Image courtesy of MulletJunky.com

John Montana has spoiled me in more ways than one. Not only has he exposed me to big, sight fishable carp, but he also turned me on to squirrel dubbing as well. Sure I came up with a pretty bitchin' substitute, but it just wasn't the same. Now I'm lusting after violent tailers and spikey squirrel dub. I'm damaged goods.


I'll be picking up a few squirrel skins from Coffin Creek Furs. High on the list are the #3 Grade gray squirrel skins at $0.80 a piece. This is the brownliner's seal, and they come a dime a dozen. It's damn near open season on these critters. I'm gonna stock up on them sumbitches and get busy dyeing; rust, olive, black, yellow, blue. I'll be picking up some Pine and Fox Squirrel skins too; I'm gonna run the whole gamut. I've got a bunch of different concoctions cooking up in my head and it's about to get heavy. Think spectral. Alchemy in progress.

Look out there little fella, cause this roughfisher is a gunnin' for you.

the brownline 2010.01.07

• Drowning the Beaver. Another AMFF/Cheneyesque type controversy? The boys over at Buster's discover that Donny Beaver's Spring Ridge Club was selected by an independent panel of judges as a finalist in the Investing in Nature program in the Ecotourism category from The Nature Conservancy. In another move of brilliance, Cathy Beck pimps some chrome on their newsletter, then gets thrown under the bus.


• More bullshit news from the home front: The Obama administration Tuesday opposed Michigan and other states that want to close shipping locks near Chicago to prevent ravenous Asian carp from invading the Great Lakes.

"In a host of ways, the federal government has demonstrated its commitment to protecting the Great Lakes from the expansion of Asian carp," she said in a written memo. "Nothing in federal law warrants second-guessing its expert judgment that the best information available today does not yet justify the dramatic steps Michigan demands."

Except for the fact that you've dropped the ball with your head up your ass for the last decade, preventing the spread of these fish from downstream. Different regime in the White House, same bullshit policies. It's obvious that the Feds and the State of Illinois both don't care about the devastation of the Great Lakes' native fish populations and the region's $7 billion fishing and tourism industries.


• More anti-coal sentiment hits the blogosphere over at The FlyFish Journal. Good to see my brothers in arms not afraid to speak their minds on the ravages of coal generated electricity. Thanks for joining the fight. It's apparent the "clean" coal lobby won't rest until we and our children and our children's children are all dead from the ingestion of toxins and heavy metals and lung disease.


• Major flooding possible in the Red River Valley this spring, AGAIN. The most recent forecast issued by the National Weather Service gives the Fargo/Moorhead area of the Red River of the North a 49 percent chance of major flooding and an 80 percent chance of moderate flooding, with near-certainty of minor flooding. I think the solutions to this problem are more ditches, more dams, more tiling and wetland draining, unsustainable development and new construction in a floodplain, and a massive pork barrel proposal to construct a huge non-eco friendly river diversion complex to bypass the cities of Fargo and Moorhead. Oh wait, that's what they've already been doing, and you can see how well that's been treating them the past few years. #FAIL

If the fish are gone, burn the country.

Man Smart, Carp Smarter

I found myself in the heart of brownwater country with a chance to tease some Iowegian carp. Anyone who's spent some time fishing chocolate milk knows that your odds of winning the Powerball are better than trying to catch a cyprinid blind nymphing. Those carp had the last laugh; this Minnesotan was left with a skunky taste in the air and a few flies lighter. I guess those Iowegians aren't so dumb after all.