This time of year I always wonder if catching fish is the point. I have a bit of fish art in the World Headquarters, which I look at every morning. My favorite is a watercolor of a rainbow hovering over river stone. The fish is not obvious—you have to look for her, which is what I like about the painting. There is fishing to be had right now, but I spend more time thinking about it than actually doing it. I organize fly boxes, fuss with assorted gear, and dig into fly tying materials. The guides and I talk about fly size, color, action, and what we might come up with to trick more fish. Most of it is probably ego driven bullshit but still interesting. We talk about spots off the grid. A buddy of mine is driving an old ambulance as deep as you can down the west coast of Mexico—an area with miles of swamp, estuaries, and flats. There also are huge fresh water rivers. We are talking about an exploratory mission and the talking is a big part of the fun. Tarpon have been seen, also bonefish; logistics are a nightmare, adding to the appeal. We caught some type of big fresh water perch there many years ago, but we weren’t really there to fish. I had my best body surfing day I’ll probably ever have. It ended with a curious bump from what I think was a massive tiger shark. It was hard to say for sure because the water was muddy, but I do know it was big and interested enough to get me out of the water. Fish don’t have hands so they have to check things out with their faces. I may not pull the trip off this year, but a plan has been loosely formed. For now, I’m pretty content to look at maps, ask questions, and wonder if there’s still undiscovered where fish have never seen a fly.

Live from the World Headquarters
Kea C. Hause esq.