The PUMP–Jeff Beck
I went fishing today with an old friend and laid-off rig hand, the infamous John Steele, who has been forced into booking punk rockabilly bands in Spun Junction to support his fishing habit. We started out at The Pink Bridge in Sutank, and the boys from the Roaring Fork Marina were testing out the new fleet of paddleboards. The surfing was stronger than the fishing on the middle section of the Fork, due to the obscene number of caddisflies. We did, however, spot several big Bows on beds, and it seems as though we’ll have another successful spawn. Not spawning anymore myself, it was good to see the fish fighting the good fight. We headed up the Crystal having caught a couple of nice native cutts and a mixed bag of decent fish. The Crystal dropped several feet last night as a result of a good freeze and deposited a massive tree just above the hatchery bridge. Between the tree and a manky beaver carcass, we caught several nice fish, I then sent my friends back down to the big ditch where, fortunately, the Mother’s Day hatch is no longer an issue. Maynard is still gainfully employed in Bonedale, while I am forced to hawk tee shirts and stickers out of the back of the World Headquarters. The dust layer in our snow pack forced some snow off early, but believe me, it ain’t over yet. Mother nature will deliver another epic runoff, which is a good thing for all parties concerned. I am headed West for the weekend to fish for river Cats and giant Carp and maybe more Bass and Bluegill. The long suffering Mrs. Hause has a chore list, so it’s time to giddy up or I’ll be forced into honest labor, which is, after all, not my strong suit. I would, of course, rather be fishing. Tie up masssssive stones patterns and head west immediately.
Send swag for the spiritual wars on the horizon.
Live from the World Headquarters
Kea C. Hause