Our state is on fire... can we come fish yours?

Everything, it seems, is burning in Arizona.

In northern AZ strong winds push the Wallow fire as it chews through the forests and prairies of the White Mountains. Belching smoke and ash and defecating destruction, it has consuming over 300,000 acres so far making it the second largest fire in AZ history. As of four hours ago it was 0% contained.

Out east the Horseshoe Two fire burns around Silver Peak. 106,000 acres. 50% contained.

To the southeast crews are cleaning up the last bits of the Arlene fire. 10,000 acres. 70% contained.

Down south the Murphy Fire wanders around the hills and rough peaks just east of Arivaca Lake, a sneaky bastard. 50,000 acres. 15% contained.

Well, what's a fat guy to do? Go fishing, of course.



So that's what I did; took a drive down south with my father to check out the smoke and try for some topwater bass action before the whole state burns down.

The Murphy Fire.

A timeout for the vices.

Sometimes you just have to hand the camera off... Jonathan Landeen photo.

The late morning was warm and relatively calm, the southwestern wind pushing the smoke away from the water and making the fire an afterthought.

Then the cavalry showed up and I put away the 8wt and rowed for a closer look.

Hold on to your hat.

The sky crane's came again and again to fill their holds and the winds grew stronger throughout the afternoon. Needless to say it made concentrating on a soft underhand cast to the bank a little difficult. It was time to head out.

If I knew then what I know now, I might have stayed a little longer.

At noon this Thursday the US Forest Service will be closing the Coronado National Forest for an undetermined amount of time, until "significant moisture is received to reduce the wildfire threat to manageable levels."

Parker Canyon Lake? No, you can't go there.
Avivaca for some bass goodness? Nope.
Pena Blanca? No, that place got torched anyways.
Pataginia? Lol. try again.
Fry Mesa? No.
Riggs? No.

Dammit.




So, our state is on fire... can we come fish yours?

-Alex who is working on his rain dance, but is worried he is too white to impress anyone.

the usual

I walked into the Golden Nugget and Holly seemed happy to see me. She had begun to walk out from around behind the bar as I opened the door, headed for the Scratchers vending machine but when she saw me she twisted on her heel and flowed back behind the wood and spun me a napkin. She had won $500 a few weeks ago and she can't seem to stay away from it, she said.

It is cash only and I had $10 in my pocket, plenty at the Nugg, or so it used to be.

"Holly," I said, "I got ten bucks and I need something strong." She leaned over the bar and fetched the usual. I slapped the money down as she poured the Yukon Jack into the shot glass. It was a good pour. It's always a good pour at the Nugg. As she walked to the register she paused. "Umm," she began, "it looks like they changed the prices for 2011. Yukon is now $6.50."

Six fifty? It used to be three fifty, or four, I can't remember but ten dollars used to be enough to get started, at least, and a beer back is little consolation.

The first let down of the new year.

On a better, more in-tune note, the new BloodKnot is out. Represent.

It is happening all over the place and it's driving me insane.

I know some of the waters. I have stood in the same spot, on the same bank. Things are happening right now, maybe someplace I know and maybe not but it doesn't really matter when one is not there. Big, nasty hungry fish that know the solid water well and rebel against it and I am no part of it.

Time is against us now and all I want for Christmas is poundage on the end of my line and at this point I don't really care who's lap I have to sit on.

Is there still time? I think so. Five hours there and five hours back but the clouds are looming and the ice is starting to crickle-crackle its way into the still water between the rocks, under the boat docks and into my head. Is this really the end of the season for me? Are the White Mountains really so close and yet so far? Can my shitty truck muster the mechanical fortitude to make it to the pines? Maybe, but probably not. I fear I may have procrastinated too long, and my wallet is a little light and there is no one to blame but myself.

This is the eleventh hour, people, and if you are there make the best of it, great, but don't call me to tell me how awesome it is because if I should perish in a vain attempt to locate and cast a line while strangling you, the blood will be on your hands.

-Alex who should shut the hell up and go to bed.