From Alex, Aaron, and I,
We wish you the best for 2012.
Now enjoy the Photo.
We wish you the best for 2012.
Now enjoy the Photo.
Saturday, December 31, 2011
Monday, December 26, 2011
hey guess what
Almost a month ago she said..... YES
Kyle- I don't know what is wrong with her, but I am happy
Kyle- I don't know what is wrong with her, but I am happy
Friday, December 23, 2011
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...
-Alex who hopes Luke make it to the ladies with skin fine as cream gravy.
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.
Monday, December 19, 2011
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
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 pla
ce. 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:
- Turbot
- Calico Bass
- Lizard Fish
- 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
Monday, December 12, 2011
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
Sunday, December 11, 2011
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.
Back players unite. One case one kill. Get some.
-Alex who is reminiscing about the lovely smell of polyethylene glycol in the morning.
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.
Monday, December 05, 2011
Sunday, December 04, 2011
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.
Put down the snack cake,
Eat a salad every now and then,
Don't be a dumb ass.
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