Casting Obsessions

The need to pull that fly rod out of the case and just cast? You either have it or you don't. I go through various phases of casting obsession. I feel the need as of today...because the last time I cast...I really sucked!!

The fly rodder in all of us dictates that we stare intently at any body of water we pass in the car with complete disregard for safety of either ourselves or passengers inside. Not paying attention to the road is not a healthy or safe act. It can cause one to drive his vehicle into the river, a farm pond, or even mud puddles in your favorite defunct shopping center.

Casting anywhere that you find water feeds your soul. That includes closed swimming pools in Nashville, Tennessee. Capt. Carp and SOL trespassed over the fence, hiding from the cantankerous nighttime desk clerk...there had been several doses of Crown Royal administered by the nurse at Hooters...the diagnosis was that we looked anemic and needed immediate help in the form of brown liquids...we respectfully accepted our weak state and followed the scantily clad, tight fitting white t-shirt clad Hippocratic oathed gal's prescription; greedily choking down said prescription. Sorry that I don't have pics of the nurse, my bad. Carp and I both agreed that she must have been practicing for some time and surely was an authority on the subject.

The only reason that Capt. Carp I and went into the hospital, I mean Hooter's, was for the chicken wings...no, it was because it was the only bar open within crawling distance of the Motel 6. My favorite travelling roadside inn; I have a fetish with Tom Bodet...for another Blog in the future, or not. Some things are left better unsaid.

So, SOL with the camera, Carp with the rod, and clandestine behaviors all doped up from our nurse...and you can clearly see what transpired...fly cast obsessive debauchery.

Does it get any better? Good clean fun...

Selfish Guide Behavior of the Week: Having a heater in the boat for yourself...not your clients...I've always said, "I didn't say you couldn't bring your own heater."

Capt. Carp Dead Song of the Day: Touch of Grey...the one true fans despise

Westsider Nymph Rig of the Year: Dropping a nymph off of a Skwala...6 inches...that's not nymphing...if it's not 7ft from the bobber to the split...it's not nymphing bro'brah