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Posts tagged ‘Fly fishing’

Crooked Monday

Monday had us on the Crooked, slaying rainbows. Sunday funday was on the Metolius, dinner and drinks in Sisters, then camping on the river. Tonight it’s drinks and dinner in Prineville. Having a blast.

 

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Revolving Journey

©Revolving Journey

Revolving Journey. That’s the title. I really like this one. It’s something I’ve been wanting to shoot for a long while. Around nine this evening I hesitated, sat my camera down, and brought this image to life.

Throwing Line

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©ThrowingLine1.2

Last of the ambience.

365 Days of Flash Photography, With Day Number Nine. Mint Conditions.

Here is Day Number Nine…

Mint Conditions. 

Adjusted9Cool cutthroat on a lazy stretch.

365DFP-9.2

Stout Reluctance

Drifting. Things getting scattered. Unfolding, procrastination on the horizon. Glorious in its bathing reluctance.

Should have, could have, but didn’t. Nah, I was caught off guard. The plan was to paint both my bathroom and spare bedroom. None of it happened. I’m throwing the blame on my dad, totally his fault. His text, sent earlier before our journey up and throughout a few wild untamed streams, simply lured me away.  

Guilty as charged. 

SR1And you know what? I didn’t catch a single thing. Hooked a few, that I did. None of them made their way to my open and otherwise caring hands. 

Beyond the giant trout, those bastards freeing themselves from ends of otherwise stout leader, it was a good day. 

SR2No complaints. And the paint will still be waiting. 

Throwing Adams

They were all of insignificant size, but it didn’t really matter. Nothing more than a few hours of bliss, reeling in acrobatic cutthroat trout, enjoying those peculiar sounds where riffles and current combed over shallow uneven cobblestone beds. Choice of fly was none other than that of an Adams. Pure surface action, with every ounce of me engaged. Irritations melted away, drifted away, like those white pudgy columns patrolling the skies overhead. TA2Each throw of line put the Adams on a different voyage, riding high on surface while moving shadows beneath kept a curious eye. Everything in their world, passing morsel or otherwise seemed always under strict surveillance. And then there was the familiar break, where surface split, and the Adams going bye-bye.TA1

TA3