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.

Fat Guys, fishbeer and some yeast poop in CO

I knew it would happen sooner or later, and that it would be sweet. I have always praised the combination and understood that there is a love-love relationship between being outdoors and enjoying a few oat sodas, but I think few men have taken it to the level of Matt Dunn, the mastermind behind Fishbeer.com, who just happened to occupy the same space and time with a few fat guys last weekend, (including Michael Gracie, the self-proclaimed 3/4 fat guy).

The atmosphere was light, and the 20oz draughts were cold at Govnr's Park as the conversation fluttered around fishing, midgets (as it will often do in the presence of Kyle) and beer. Matt spoke about the class that he taught in Indiana The Art and Science of Beer: History, Technology, and Culture and the disappointment of frat boys who realize too late that "beer bong dynamics" is not covered in the course. He enlightened us uneducated beer-drinkers that in the past men, women and children alike drank beer daily, and I have learned by perusing one of his online power-point lectures that the first recorded recipe is for brewing beer. Awesome.

It does not take long to understand that Matt knows a lot about beer and has a great passion about the subject - and I don't mean like your buddy who brewed it once in his kitchen and feels smart in front of the ladies when talking about things like "mouthfeel," "palate," and "nose." Matt is a pro, and was more than happy to do a little R&D with some new friends in Denver.

After a few rounds, some tasty drinks and food the afternoon came to an end, and we had to depart. Matt will be running around Colorado for a few more weeks, and I believe he has plans to camp and do some hot-nighttime-mouse-on-river action with Gracie tomorrow. Keep an eye out on Gracie's site for that post, as I threw him some hot tips for night photography that I hope will pay off with some full-moon eye candy.

Matt, it was a pleasure, and you are welcome down here is AZ anytime. The fishing may not be as good as CO, but the drinking is first-rate.

-Alex who should stay behind the camera.

"The Toast" Prints Now Available!

Ladies and gentlemen, girls and boys, children of all ages, it has arrived.

"The Toast" 20x30 print.

I know you have a lonely wall somewhere in your house; give it a friend.

Available in 10" x 15", 12" x 18", 16" x 24", 20" x 30" with various framing and mounting options.

Click here to get your own!

-Alex

Bow your head and raise your glass

I would like to propose a toast.

It has been a couple weeks since I have been to the water. I was starting to get a little stale. After reading a post on fishbeer, I was inspired to create "The Toast" seen above. You know that would look awesome on your wall.

According to Wikipedia, a fish is defined as any non-tetrapod chordate, (i.e., an animal with a backbone), that has gills throughout life and has limbs, if any, in the shape of fins. They are not cute or cuddly, and unlike some popular speculation they are not even close to intelligent. And please don't try to tell me that the last big brown that wrapped your leader around some unseen sunken object and broke you off had any idea what it was doing other than spasmatically freaking out. By the way, if fish could scream that would be terrifying. Just imagine after a hook-set, your fighting that big bow wen he jumps out of the water and AAHHHHHHHHHH!!!!! splash. I'm just sayin'. But anyways....

If only these slippery bug-eating creatures from watery dimensions could comprehend the power they held over some of us. Just for a second, just a taste of the heart-pounding, frenzied-eyed lunacy that drives us out into threatening landscapes, waterscapes and any other scapes that lead to pescatorial pursuit. Would they think us mad?

Herbert Hoover once said that "Fishing is a discipline in the equality of men - for all men are equal before fish." Throwing them right up there with the Law and God himself is a hefty burden to bear, but that added weight does not seem to bother our little shoulder-less friends. And monkeys can't breath under water.

So, all you heathens, bow your heads and raise your glasses. Make sacrifice your 12-pack and hotdog stuffed bratwurst to the lords of the liquid realm. Rejoice in the glory of the catch and hail your scaly master.

Or don't. After all, it's just a fucking fish.