alyeska.

well, the only thing that could make the k-tok better than last time would be to share it with friends. fishing was epic. weather was spectacular. food was plentiful. rum was sweet. smokes were smooth. and beer was cold (once we got back to anchorage).
as usual i'll let some photos do the talking.
CLICKY.
good times, fellas. good times.

home from AK.

more pictures...someday. still recovering and it's steelhead time.

valhalla.

18 days.

happy fourth!

spent the day preparin' for fireworks armageddon tonight.
a worn out pup is a beautiful thing.

more fun than my job.

but i get to go to alaska in 2 months.

ocean bounty.

hey friends and enemies. it's been awhile. no real fishing trips to report lately, but we have run out to the coast a couple times. we don't really know what we're doing and deemed both trips as "science missions", but we had fun.
keep in mind that in all these pictures the wind was blowing over 60mph and it was raining like a nebraska tornado was about to throw some cattle or a barn door at us.
so don't tell our moms that we were hanging out on the jetties...

a happy ending.

holy badassness.

early front runner for most awesomest shit of the year.

The Sandy River from alexandra erickson on Vimeo.

the locals.

it's damn cool to lasso these broncos 30 minutes from my driveway.
and by cool, i mean 20 degrees and ice in the guides.
happy new year to everyone!

high water unicorns.

really early.
really, really early.
lots of rain. river was on the rise but somehow it happened. twice.
some things are better left a mystery like stonehenge, sasquatch, DB cooper, and brandon roy's knee cartilage.

more flies.

of course these are a little sloppy and can only get better. but it sure is fun to watch them come together. spinning hackle and dubbing on a hook is quickly becoming one of life's little pleasures.
i love the prince nymph. and by love, i mean, i've put close to million of these buggers into the trees along the banks of the deschutes. hopefully, i won't have to buy anymore. ever.

two thumbs up!

strong work bishops!
tattoo'd women and SAVE BRISTOL BAY?
Now that's how you run a business.

wooly bugger.

yeah, that's my first bug. pretty complicated, i know. but i'll be whipping up sexy pink fish tacos in no time...

moss man.

going south for the next few weeks so the good folks at caddis fly can teach me to tie some bugs. i've been putting off learning for too long. i blame call of duty. we got in some home-cooking and some fishing.





i hiked in looking for sasquatch again. i didn't find him. but i did see something odd. my eyes were wet and bloody from the thickest forest of blackberry bushes in the northwest, but i managed one decent picture from a distance:



i told him i wasn't interested in his recent deer kill and he let me go with a warning.
then i caught a couple nice fish.
and ate some dairy queen.

on the road again...

i used to loathe driving.
however, lately trips out east haven't felt so long.
sure it's still hundreds of miles, but it ain't so bad.
technology surely has something to do with it, but not everything.
a couple hours of a nice, new ipod playlist makes time fly.
a couple PTI and moldy chum podcasts and it's time to stop for some grub.
even an hour or so of sweet silence maybe with the window down just to see how long it takes my face to freeze as i climb the ledge outside of pendleton, and i'm damn near there.
pick a campsite, fire up the coleman, stuff some extra blankets in the sleeping bag, and flip through the latest issue of the drake before dozing off.
hopeful for a couple bumps in the morning.

rocktober.

my favorite month of the year. the blazers are gettin' warmed up. the huskers haven't let me down yet. the mc rib should be coming back soon. and so far, i've caught more steelhead than NFL parlays won.
we hit the deschutes over the weekend with a few hundred of our closest friends.
for shitsake river etiquette is way down these days. knuckle-head campers in every run. we gave it a few hours, landed a beautiful native, high-fived, and headed back to maupin for some tasty, tasty pizza.
we're gonna give it another try this weekend...maybe a different spot, though.

mexico.

we've been home for a few days now. the normal flora is slowly returning.
we're both feeling pretty good, actually, compared to our first adventure to ixtapa/zihuatanejo. f that dirty, dirty cesspool.
the east cape is a lovely place. there's nothing to do but fish, sleep, eat, swim, sunburn, and fish. sounds pretty perfect,eh?.
i will never be a morning person. but 0600 in baja with huevos rancheros waiting for you poolside as the front loaders launch the pangas on the beach below you is a pretty sweet way to motivate.
we'll be back.

metal.

bazinga.

September to do list:
get married. check.
catch a roosterfish. check.



more to come. when my bowels recover.

deliverance.

i needed a fuckin' break. a man can only take so many fucking whiny sick patients, annoying fucking co-workers, fucking oozing abscesses, fucking annoying co-workers, that fucker kobe bryant, fucking rain, an incontinent sweet old pup, fuck you AT&T, and fucking annoying co-workers.
first stop was the uber-hyped diamond lake on thursday. i made good time even with a required stop at the caddis in eugene to pick up some chubbies. i quickly set up camp through a cloud of skeeters. it was just warm enough in middle of each day for the mosquitos to be as thick as fog. i blew my nose today at work, and yeah, there was a mosquito in it.




i fished hard in the float tube that night and all day friday at both ends. the wind was tough and my legs were jello, but i found a few fish. it wasn't epic, but my hands smelled like fish slime, which has been a daily goal of mine ever since i lost my virginity.
overall, diamond lake is fun, beautiful, and full of fish, if you have a boat.
i was up at it early again saturday morning for a couple hours, but decided i needed some moving water. and since i was heading to warm springs for sunday, i went north. i have a secret little skinny stretch of the deschutes near redmond that i hadn't yet touched this year.

so now, this is where my weekend got stupid. as i mentioned, i'd been kicking around in a float tube in the wind for three days, so my legs were goo, and this spot was a bit of a hike. it'd be easier to base jump down the canyon wall, but i didn't have a helmet, just waders and some beef jerky, so i scooted down the shale hoping to not slide into a nest of rattlesnakes.
it worked. i fished. it sucked. i gave it a solid 45 minutes and said "fuuuuuuuuuck". i seriously thought about faking a broken leg and calling in the national guard for an air lift out.

so now, this is where my weekend got seriously fucked up. i was winded, tired, thirsty, defeated, and sweaty. the well-worn path through the thick brush and boulders was narrow and looked snakey, so i was focused. then the hairs on the back of my neck started to stand up. my spidey sense was at defcon 10. although i did notice a car parked up near mine, i hadn't seen a soul.
but now, there were people just ahead of me around the corner. i slowly made the turn as wide as i could, my hand already in my pocket holding my small knife. and i hollered out at the same time i started to hear some rustling. the image of one guy's cock coming out of the other guy's ass has had me crying in the shower all week.

i took a few giant steps back as pants and dust started flying. the pitcher, we'll call him, boss hog, took a header into the thorny bushes determined to hide his face. he unsuccessfully hid down the bank from me in clear sight except for his face, i mumbled something awkward about having to walk through their little love nest still clutching my knife in my pocket.

i wasn't in a safe situation. scenes from trainspotting, basketball diaries, and even bob saget screaming "i used to suck dick for coke!" were racing through my mind.

the catcher, we'll call him, enos, was a little more friendly. as i slowly walked back towards them, my only way out, he pops out rockin' his mullet, a muscle shirt, and a spinnin' rod and offers me a beer. i nervously laughed and asked that him and his boyfriend step back so i could boot-scoot through lover's lane and get the fuck outta hazard county.
they did and i got by them and above them. as i continued to climb out, enos continued to chat me up. he asked me how the fishing was, i said, "shitty", he said he had "just got a big brown". i again laughed and stopped short of responding with something that might have gotten me shot.

i got back to my wheels, noticed a second rig (a tricked-out dodge monster truck with shiny rims) and wondered which guy was responding to the craigslist ad?
then i had to put some gangsta rap on the ipod to calm my nerves, and got the hell outta there.

so with that horrible brokeback afternoon behind me, i continued north to the mecca for the evening. it was lovely as usual. hungry fish on the surface with the big, fuzzy chubbies. still cool, no skeeters, no snakes, cold beer, a 24 hour diner in madras, and things were setting up sweetly for an epic sunday.




so now, this is where my weekend got ridiculous. sunday, we fished all day on some new water and absolutely crushed it. one good day rockin' deschutes trout on dries in the central oregon sunshine will give a man a year's worth of fish mojo. i'm pretty sure i could out-fish ernest hemingway right now.
of course that all changes as soon as i go get my steelhead on.