HAPPY NEW YEAR!

From Alex, Aaron, and I,
We wish you the best for 2012.
Now enjoy the Photo.

Santa didn't pay too close attention...

Yeah.

-Alex who will be sure to post awesomeness with said awesomeness.

hey guess what

Almost a month ago she said..... YES
Kyle- I don't know what is wrong with her, but I am happy

Getaway

Luke sat with his back against the cold rock, his hat pulled low on his head. A Winchester repeating rifle leaned against the low rock wall to his right as he squinted his eyes against the wind and looked out over the pass.

Walter had told him it was real important that he keep a keen eye, because they would most likely be coming up through from south, so “keep your damn eye lids open, boy.” Walt had said. “I come back up’er and you catchin’ a wink im’a clean yer plow.” So Luke watched the moon-lit valley as he was told.

Movement caught his eye and adrenaline flushed through him. He looked hard. There was something moving, but Luke thought it seemed too small to be a man. Lots of night critters run around these hills. He stuck a blade of grass in his mouth and settled back into the rock and continued his vigil.

Luke was fourteen years old, and hard as any man, he reckoned. He had been with Walter for as long as he could remember. Luke’s parents had been killed when he was just a small boy and Walt had taken him to raise him best he could. He remembered little from his childhood.

They had once ridden with a hand named Francis, who had been one of Lem’s men till an unsettled dispute had sent Francis looking for work. Francis loved his Whiskey and had got full as a tic on stump one night and told Luke that Walt had killed his parents over a debt and grabbed him as cover from the sheriff’s deputies bullets on his way out the door.

Luke didn’t believe the story and had told Walt what Francis said. Walt assured Luke that it was just a tall tale, said “You should never believe words that smell somuch like whiskey, boy” and walked off with a limp. Francis never made it back to camp. Luke just assumed Walt had run him off. Luke thought he might have seen Francis’ saddle for sale in the store the following week, but he couldn’t be sure.

Luke heard a rustle over this left shoulder and turned his head. Walt’s dark outline slowly moved around the rock, cresting the hill in his direction. The shadowy figure quietly made its way to his side.

“Anythin’?”
“No sir, but this’s a dandy spot, yes sir, we’ll get the bulge on ‘em, alright.”

Walt nodded in the dark and turned away.

“Walt?”
“Yeah?”
“Is it true that Lem got the rope? I heard they came and drug ‘em right outta jail.”

Walt stopped and turned his head slightly, pulling his Stetson down against the cold. “Yeah, they lynched him.”

Luke swallowed hard and stared at his boots.

Walt turned full around, facing him.

“Don’t you worry ‘bout it, boy. In a few days we’ll shove the queer and be bendin’ our elbows someplace nice. Maybe get a couple ladies keep us company.”

Luke nodded in the dark. Walt turned back and picked his footing around the hilltop and disappeared.

Luke pulled his gloves tight. He thought about the money. He thought about ladies with skin fine as cream gravy. He thought about Lem Redfield swinging from a rope and shivered.

Luke stared out into the dark over the pass.

One hundred-and-something years later...

Luke's Wall

Aaron as usual.

Be afraid of this.

Some gotten.

-Alex who hopes Luke make it to the ladies with skin fine as cream gravy.

Busy Busy Busy.... A small overview.

Lack of posts, lack of fishing, planning a wedding, and work have been keeping me from posting as much as I would like.

I have still been able to make it to the "Meth Lab Trailer Pond" but the carp still have been testing my skills. By that I found out I lack in skills.
The Bass seem to be calming down, but still aggressive during the colder times of the week.
Yesterday when I was out I was unable to catch a bass, yet I hooked into 2 carp, and caught an asshole turtle. This proves that a Crazy Charlie will catch anything.

My giant Midas Cichlid, Butt Head, died

Also I was in San Diego last month, an amazing time with friends Christian, Tessa, and their baby Sophia, and with my now Fiance Jamie, for a tattoo convention, Well it was more of a vacation for me, I spent most of my time running around San Diego fishing, and drinking. I got ahold of an old Friend of mine, Alex Anzaldua, whom I used to beat up when I was younger because his older brother is a good friend of mine.

The man Alex Anzaldua himself

Alex and I hit up a boat from Seaforth Sportfishing, and I was SUPER impressed with this company! It may not be fly fishing but every now and then I still love to grab some traditional gear or my deep sea gear and remember what got me into fishing in the first place. I have been on many charters in S.D. in the past and they were fun, but the staff and knowledge of Seaforth is second to none. Many Sheeps Head, Sculpin, Rock fish, few Ling Cod, and many other types of fish were caught. From 27 people on the boat, over 225 fish were taken home on a half day trip.
I have never had this much fun before on a San Diego charter before, 5 stars in my opinion. I would recommend this company to anyone, 100%!

The pier fishing was a load of fun, fish the waves just as you would nymphing a river with an indicator you may catch small fish as well, Like my super tiny Halibut

Top to bottom:

1. Turbot
2. Calico Bass
3. Lizard Fish
4. Halibut

Work is getting busy again, I don't want to talk about work.

So just a little info for your reading pleasure, if you like to hear what I have to say that is!

-Kyle

This, Plus This, Plus These

Morgan Tattoo Rum, Plus Arizona Green Tea, makes Kyle a happy man. Also makes sea monkeys on Mars much more interesting

that other thing.

A long time ago, before it was fly fishing, it was something else. A different thing that sucked the green pulpy marrow from my pants pockets.

Now, in the quasi-wintery slow AZ fishing season, that other thing has been picking on my mind a bit.

Couple new o-rings, a updated hydrostatic test and it's game on, baby.

'99 Vortex Autococker. Old school. I think there are a few prepubescent, ego-laden young hot shots that need a fresh coat.

Back players unite. One case one kill. Get some.

-Alex who is reminiscing about the lovely smell of polyethylene glycol in the morning.

tasty flesh

-Alex who knows to the victor's kin goes a small percentage of the spoils.

I feel much better about myself

Stick to fishing,

Put down the snack cake,

Eat a salad every now and then,

Don't be a dumb ass.

got some bigguns up'er on the rez.

Chris Williams Trappers Den Taxidermy - Lakeside, AZ.

For the low low price of $18,000 dollars you too could have the chance to kill a world record elk on the beautiful White Mountain Apache Indian Reservation. And it will only cost you an extra $3,000 if you shoot anything over 375 B&C.

...yeah.

sometimes

Sometimes you go to the cold mountain lakes.

Sometimes there is a guy that you didn't know you kinda knew, but not really, fishing from the dock.

Sometimes he hooks a nice fish.

Sometimes you take a photo.

-Alex who is embarrassed that he forgot to reset the exposure compensation on his camera... amateur move, bro.

mary had a little lamb

... and it was so good she had a little more.

-Alex who is painfully thankful.

el salamander

Four parts part Corona or Corona Light
One part Jim Beam

Get some.

-Alex who knows you will love the deliciousness.
-Josh who has the best drinking crazy-eye in the business.

Aaron pensils out DWD 4.0

-Alex for Aaron who took like three hours to finish the shading on her upper lip.

Part 2 - How to win accidently and fail properly

The bartender was ignoring everything but the bro at the end of the pine and the slot machine wined as it ingested the only dollar I had in my wallet.

I am not really a gambler. Not with money, anyways. I have always found it strange to take something that I have, that's mine, in my possession, and give it away to pull a handle or push a button or take a busting hit.

But there was something about this machine, this dollar...

Fishing is my favorite gamble. Incalculable time, effort, money, mental anguish, preparatory inadequacies of the mind and muscle born of a desire for just a sample.

Smoking dreams down to the filter with a blistered finger and a hat full of rain.

...so wheels spun and the machine spit out a ticket that was within forty cents of the calculated dollar amount of gas and food for the trip.

Affirmation printed in black and blue ink, handed to the congratulating smile behind the counter, and counted out in faded twenty-dollar bills.

The new york steak wasn't bad either.

Halloween bringin' it.

-Alex who has a hundred points and a gold star for the person (besides FGFF crew) who can tell me where the boar on the pumpkin is from.

Part 1 - suspect behavior, dirty undies and slime.

Someone painted red stains on the eight-foot white cross where the nails would have been.  Men sometimes sit behind the small store on a dirty picnic table. They are open when they feel like it so go away and come back later. Dogs roam feral through tall trees over the bitumen and aggregate and through the trampled field where soiled undergarments are discarded. The cows don't seem to mind.

Two men in an early 70's off-white Ford F100 bounce and rattle down the dirt path that bisects the field. They are up to something at the far end, their heads dip and bob as they slowly move across the ground, occasionally disappearing altogether behind the taller shrubs and grass as they walk back and forth from the bed of the truck.

Clouds loom ominous and move quickly over rusty playground equipment. A faded carousel slowly choked by weeds longs for small hands as a school bus rumbles out of a dirt drive across the street.

The road from here to there curves through the middle of this place and I have driven it often over the last fifteen years and never stopped. The pond is on the edge of a hill and reaches out just far enough to caress the highway and make fishy passersby wonder at sixty miles per hour if there might be something swimming around in that shallow weed-choked water.

Why did the fat guys cross the road? Because they heard there was pike on the other side.

Up Next: Bartenders with boyfriends, a new nacho recipe, and we play another exciting round of "What Important Thing Did Aaron Leave at Home This Time?"

-Alex who brings the bacon.

mountain creepy...

Yeah.

-Alex who has said all he has to say about that.

I think he is doing it wrong

What the hell is wrong with people?

no this is not disturbing to me, but please don't abuse your gear.

-kyle, who is really bored this morning and can't wait to get back after the carp

Always gone.

When I am here, I am usually gone.

I am leaving soon so I was especially gone today.

Reality in four dimensions, so it would seem.

I was watching tv and eating a triscuit while unloading my pontoon and assembling a rod.
I was scrubbing myself in the shower and scratching my man-ness in the thin afternoon mountain sun.
I was driving to a job while paddling to a weed point, simultaneously yelling into my phone and whispering across calm waters while washing a dish in the sink and slime from my fingers in the lake.

What has already taken place will soon just have happened.

I can only hope that it will be as good as it was.

-Alex who packed his truck tomorrow and will tie some flies yesterday because he is always gone today.

Awaiting another salty trip

Can't wait to get back to Shelter Island, last time I was there I caught many different fish species, this time I plan on catching more.

When I was on the pier I had some "Crazy Charlies," They did great but the bait chuckers were using Ghost Shrimp. These were like crack to the halibut, croakers, turbots, and all kinds of bass.

Now I tied me up some ghost shrimp patterns, Lets hope they work.

And here is the live fucked up looking shrimp.
-Kyle, who wishes he had Alex's photo capabilities

Hey Smitty...

Remember when this happened to your fish?



via Trout's

Fall Time

"People are going to be like, 'Aren’t those gourds straining your neck?' And I’m just going to thread another gourd onto my necklace without breaking their gaze and quietly reply, 'It’s fall, fuckfaces. You’re either ready to reap this freaky-assed harvest or you’re not.'"

You should read this.

Mail Meat

Sweet.

Thanks, James.

-Alex who loves him some fresh meat.

End of Day

Happy Monday.
Wish you were here.

-A

Fat Guy Diet? Or a proper way to die?

I would not say we battle with our weight, more so enjoy it.
If you are in Tucson this is one great way to start the FGFF diet!
Ad Mr. Lindy calls it, The "2 Finger Peek-A-Boo"It is 2 grilled cheese sandwiches, filled with 2 1/3lbs. hamburgers, tomatoes, onions, onion rings, lettuce, and Lindy's special sauce for your super feeding pleasure.

And you can only get this in Tucson at Lindy's on 4th.
Great way to live..... or die

A thing you should do.

Step 1: Purchase and slow cook to perfection 10lbs of beef ribs.

Step 2: Eat 10lbs of beef ribs.

Step 3: Be awesome.

-Alex who is feeling pretty awesome at the moment.

Good Days

Where are the good days?

Young child,
Are they waiting in your future,
yet to be experienced
and remembered?

Old man,
Are their edges growing soft,
as they age to sepia tones
in the cellar of your mind?

Dear friend,
Yesterday is stone
Tomorrow is imagination
Today has potential.

-Alex who thinks we should go fishing.

sophistication bass

Pinky out.

-A.

love and thievery

Love:

Nate Taylor bringing a little sticker love to his tying bench... as well as bringing some light to:

Thievery:

Blatant.

GrümpieGills, take some advise from your forum brother gofindyourowndamnfish and gofindyourowndamnlogo.

-Alex who understands that FGFF throws out some awesome and if you can't bring your own awesome then you will just have to be less awesome.