Sleeping In the Dirt

New TIF Is Out Check it Out!

2011-06-01T11:10:00.001-07:00

http://www.thisisfly.com/

SID 7

2011-05-19T16:30:00.000-07:00

SID 7

Art & Bob's New Site

2011-03-02T17:51:00.000-08:00

http://www.bobwhitestudio.com/

Not much more I can say, the only thing that surpasses the art is the artist. I live a lucky life, blessed by the friendship of a few very dedicated friends. Bob is one of them.

Not long ago a piece two years in the making was rejected. It was my Ode to a Friend. That friend was Bob White. A tale of strange circumstances and a grandfather, mine. The combination of which brought me and a trip to Alaska last summer full circle to Bob.

Recently Mr. White has revamped and rebuilt is web site. Support the man who shows us a life well lived one painting at a time. Check out his new e-digs, buy a print or three. I have a few favorites hanging on my walls. My wife Tara refers to them as "Mini-breaks."When I find myself in a funk or short in the house, Tara will send me to a "mini-break". Think of putting your kids in the corner, but meant as a gentle reminder to a spouse to go get lost in something that brings me back to center. For me, that's Bob's art.

@ This Stage in the GAME

2011-02-25T20:38:00.000-08:00

Okay have some honesty to share. I'm 36 years old as of last week. I've fished all over the globe at this point, caught fish that make my neck hackle stand on end just thinking about. There is one truth I've paid for with my own blood: It's not about the fish you catch, it's not about the animal you stalk and slay, it's not about racks, inches, weight, or score. It is about, and only about, the folks you spend your time with on the journey to accomplish all the previous mentioned.

A life looked back at, is measured in relationships built, kindled, and kept. Ironically I think there are a lot folks who will read this and interpret in a justified way, although that isn't even close to a northern pointing compass of my intent. But, by all means, if you find comfort in these words and your interpretation: take it.

Life is how you remember it. I'm going to consciously choose to make memories with people going forward who share a common moral sentiment. Making a new course for myself to invest in people. People willing to spend time with me doing things we have in mutual-common. I love to live Out-of-doors. Anything, that lets me forget the cube farm I spend my life in.Anything that takes me away from corporate BS that has become the loss of where we all found innocents on a dock with bobber, worm, and a hook without strings.

See, at my age and in new country - once old- I find myself alone again. I don't know anyone to fish with. I have lost connection after a decade to all those who used to fish, hunt, or spend their time not under roof.

Looking to find comfort in the one place who has accepted a would-be lonely-road bum such as myself, I face rejection. A few quotes from recent, "Sorry not what we're looking for now." After working a piece for two years. Change in the tides.

Next was, "You need to get used to rejection we all do." Then they went on to how boring the subject was and dont' get why I thought anyone would find interest in it......

Thing is after five years and a thousand rejections I've grown used to it, not numb to it.

I will never be a great writer, got that. I will never master our language, got that. I will never take an image that moves anyone other than my mother.. Which is a joke, because I could cure cancer and it will never make her stand up and take notice. I'm used to "all of it".

Thing is, I don't ask for anyone's acceptance, anyone sympathy, or pity. The one thing I do ask for is see what real life putting it out there tastes like. That is what our contributors do. There isn't anything other than 100% real lifestyle being contributed to our show.

Maybe that's not enough to get real companies interested in our little walk off the map? I wish it was. The people that give to SID free of charge deserve to be known. They deserve to be paid. They live it. Asking for more is pure gluttony.

We're not going to run; HOW-To's, What-to's, or Where-to's... it's just not the lifestyle. You can google; "Bugs for the Big Horn" or "How to Tie a Clinch Knot".... I mean come on ...
Also, we're not all guides.. hell I tried I was the worst guide in the planet. I just wanted rip the stick out of my clients hand for two summers and catch the F'N fish. Drove me crazy!

Owning that, we're not the rag for guys who guide, or guys who weekeend fish, heck we're not the ezine for the guy who fishes, hunts, or lives in doors more than out.

If it's a lifestyle you get it. Issue One. Issue when passion ends and I can't afford to publish anymore.

You take issue with that don't click page turn. There is no hiding here. Anything in that message rings true with you; Guess what, "We're you." You are SID and from one dad wishing he was fishing to you, "Thank you."

Sid 6 in the BAG

2011-02-16T17:59:00.000-08:00

So with SID Six in the bag, turning our sites towards SID 7 (thinking about doing the road trip issue early).

Would like to highlight my friend Paul and his tying, the whole story of his shaping, sanding, and designing bugs out of foam weren't all in there. I submitted the piece to Fly Tyer, got no response until I posted on Facebook that I didn't get a response. It's too bad the story of the bar and Paul are quite good.

See back in the 20s the particular bar in this story was shut down and turned into a speak-easy for gangsters spending their summers on White Bear Lake, coming in from Chicago. For those who can manage their way behind the bar and know where to look could find a dumb-waiter behind a hidden pannel allowing Canadian Whisky to be sent between floors outside the view of prying eyes.

White Bear lake had an amusement park and sprawling mansions built around the lake's shorelines housing some of America's most notorious gangsters; Al Capone, John Dillinger, and Baby Face Nelson. Gangsters and their muscle would come into the back alley doorway separating the then False front Soda Shop from the basement rooms hosting cards games and bottled Whisky (high end whisky of the 20s).

The lake a block or two away is home to some of Minnesota's largest smallmouth around. This is where our story turns towards Paul Hansen. Paul, isn't just a fly tier with patterns sold commercially throughout the world he's a Foam-shaping, Fly-Molding-Da Vinci. Between his basement workshop filled with custom made tools, shivs, and components to Paul's obsession with shaving new and more extreme angles than anything available he's taken foam tying to a new level. Paul's Electric Frog is the reason we met in a small town bar rich in history and close to a body of water full of frog eating Bass.

Paul and I met on a winter's afternoon to tie a bug or two in the shadows of the deep red leather booths of the 617. Washed down with a couple cold ones Paul and I traded stories and dreams; places been and places yet to be fished. Paul works as a high-end adventure travel guy, taking folks fishing all over the world. His company, Sporting Life, specializes in long distance adventure based salt water and large Salmonoid fishing. For more info www.sportinglifetravel.com.

If you're looking for some new patterns or a trip you won't forget try giving a SID certified guy a call. PS he lives on the Mississippi and guides quite literally the greatest stretch of smallmouth water in the country, if you want to stay in country for a trip you won't soon forget.

SID 6

2011-02-11T19:21:00.000-08:00

SID 6 Direct Link

Virtual Paper is having Technical Difficulties - We're moving to Page Gangster- will send out SID 6 here in a day or two again once we've signed a contract. Forgive the interruption. You have to love letting me pay for another issue last night and taking down the service the next morning- great business model!

2011 SID

2011-01-16T10:35:00.000-08:00

Couple Updates -

SID is getting a face lift sometime this year. I have got three different bids to build a more robust web site, with blog. Have to sit down with the wife now and figure out how much we can spend.

We just got an FTP site: now to figure out how to use.

Looking into mass distribution emails, but unfortunately GODaddy limits the number to 250 outgoing emails per day. Not going to cut the 5k list I have of folks who want to subscribe.

If you didn't see this issue of the Catch it's worth a look. SID got a little love inside too. Also, looks like we snuck a pic into Fly Fishing Journal this issue from the Musky tribe.

SID 6 is in high gear will be out here middle of Feb. Fin, Feather & Fur.
High country Elk Hunt with Bow
Fall Musky
Art of Mike Savlen
Bar Fly
For Me - By Our friend Bob
Ducks & Dogs
Maybe some Geese too
Flies through Hard Water: Ice Fishing
and a couple other surprises...

SID 7 is in layout still need a couple contributions left there and will be out on April Fools Day.
Pheasant hunt
Flats Fishing the Keys
Art of Derek DeYoung
Bar Fly
For Me- Bob
Pheasants
Swamp Buck hunt
and a couple others treats

SID 8 is our annual Road trip issue out in June/July timeframe: NEED SUBMISSIONS

SID 9 out in August is Kids Edition: NEED SUBMISSIONS

SID 10 will most likely be dedicated to SID HEROS: folks that are disabled, vets, and people fishing through life threatening illness. Look for this in Sept NEED SUBMISSIONS

SID 11 - Not sure what we've got going here I have a half a dozen ideas but nothing yet I love.

Please send all submissions to aaron@sleepinginthedirt.

H Monkey Bow Man

2011-01-02T17:56:00.000-08:00

Monkey and I went to the range for his weekly lesson today. The instructor is superb. He has patience of a saint and can help H hit the target close to 75% of the time. Keeps my little man motivated and drawing arrows until his little muscles shake.

The guys at High Five Archery are top notch. Hudson has fallen in love with shooting his "Boandarrow" and it's all due to the tremendous tutelage he's received from the staff at High Five.

The focus Hudson musters while trying to drill an arrow into the target or pop a balloon is unparalleled during the rest of his day. He really gets into it.

We signed up for a family membership today, so we could go back and got Hudson (and Dad) another lesson here next week.

Of course I brought a camera along. Here are a few photos of little man plucking targets and popping balloons today at lunch time.

Hudson's concentration marked by extended tongue.

Hudson searching for anchor spot, corner of mouth.

With a little help from the instructor, Hudson found his anchor.

Ready to go!

Hudson lets one fly! He just missed the balloon on this one, but nailed a few right before.

________________________________SID 5: The Rich Issue

2010-12-23T15:50:00.000-08:00

Direct Link

Salt this Winter

2010-12-15T19:37:00.000-08:00

Can't really post much here, someone spoke for this story and set of images specifically asking for first rights and not to run it on my site. Apparently, we've attracted some attention.. who knew that was a bad thing. I can tell you this.. Some time in the next year or so you will see a major rag run a story about our family vacation in Hawaii last week. I can also tell you Bone fish there average 10 lbs. Here is the one picture I can put out. Outside that you all will just have to buy a copy of this none-fly-fishing, but outdoor sports related magazine. Sorry this is the one story SID folks can't have the scoop first on.

However, I can tell you in the next three to four months SID will most likely visit the SALT 3 more times in search of Permit, Tarpoon, Snook, and yes more Bones....

I would love to swing a couple S.A. trips too, but not sure the funds will hold out. Golden D is on the list and so are Taimen in Asia with my friends from WCA. I'm going to try and swing it, but not sure I can afford the whole deal. I guess it's the bad part about not taking advertisement on you have to fund it all yourself. Oh well, the pay off is, you get what you see and that is the real thing. Some guys who just love to fish and get lucky taking a picture or two.

So far 2011 looks like this:

Trip to MX for Slam
Trip to Keys for Slam
Trip to Jellystone for Father-Son Annual
Trip to MT with a guy you may know from the Catch
Trip to Baja for Roosters
Trip to Canada or two this summer... I live so close now have to run up there and see what we have left as Northern Wilderness
Trips...... you will all be tired of Smallmouth and Musky by next year, they're everywhere up here - and I plan to fish every day after work from May until Oct..
Trips to Northern parts of Wisco an Mich... Got new friends to make there
Who knows what else- I would really like some epic Chrome in there... Maybe we can squeeze the Dean in the fall..... I don't know.... so much to do so little PTO.....

Going to have to be creative is all I can say... I'm really itching to fish with my friends from WCA again. Really the nicest bunch of guys I've ever encountered as outfitters. Class act, fishy as hell, and humble. Hard to find trio of traits in anglers.

Good doods.

We will see how it unfolds...

PS - you will see a lot more hunting in 2011 too. Turkey, Deer, and many many Birds will be taken..

Email aaron if you have an idea or want to fish... seems I make some really good friends via the web.. feel pretty blessed in that respect.

ao

In the air on my way to Hawaii Bones!

2010-12-03T14:00:00.000-08:00

So I will post daily updates as I work on the final release for SID 5 should be out by XMAS!

Bone fishing three days in the only flats Hawaii has off one of the tiny islands.

BONE FISH! We're going to see if we can get H into one! Youngest dude to ever catch a bone on the fly- or so we think. He's 4 that's pretty small to stalk a fish on the flats. I asked him if he wanted to fish, he responded with, "Can we catch a shark?"

LOL!

Love that little guy.

2010 Year in Review

2010-11-27T06:15:00.000-08:00

So much went down in 0-10. Hard to believe we're putting a cap on another year.

Not in order of any significance other than finding the images on my laptop:

Fishing with H- he really came into his own this year. I loved every moment of it.

Fishing with H this year was hard to beat - here is one of many sunfish on a rainy day. We tried to shoot for four days in a row for the Big O- it poured on us every ten minutes we had to run out between storms to catch a couple fish. There is no playing around with a little guy and a nine foot lightening rod so we didn't get too many shots.

Got to fish with Cam and Chris on some of my favorite water what a great father son road trip we had. A week across Arizona's North-Country. I can't wait until 2011 Father-Son road trip- we're thinking Yellowstone.

Another shot from our Father-Son Road Trip. Cam and Chris fishing a high country trout pond connected to the South Fork of the Little Colorado. Too much fun!

Not a great image I know, but for the twenty or so trips I made to Lee's Ferry in 2010, this one stood out to me. My brother in law in the front of the boat. We had a father-in-law Ferry trip. It rained cats and dogs on us and almost filled my hammock. We caught quite a few fish and Rob put some numbers on the board breaking a long streak of bad luck on the Colorado. This may be my favorite piece of water in the world, and almost every day you can fish it all by yourself.

First Musky of 2010 not a huge fish, we definitely caught bigger ones in the next month or so, but the first one always sticks out to me.

Sunrise Lake just after Sunrise. Our endless search to find a fish in the high country lakes.

Hopper Heaven.

Not a huge fish, but very memorable. This fish ate a hopper and leaped four feet out of the water. Epic trout fight of the year award goes to this long Brown in Oregon.

Alaska

Pog Eating Silver- love it!

Knocking down birds in MN

Just Beautiful!

Mearns Quail hunt at the border. What a trip! Steve is posing for us fence-side.

Have to love the McCloud

Fish seems to be saying "EEEKKKK"

Thank you Chris! I will never sleep the same.

More McCloud

H rocking the trout at workman Creek.

Lee Ball in Costa Rica

The Vegen Piranha

Monkey's in CR

Oak Creek - I'm going to miss you. So much there un touched.

Osprey on the West Fork

I have to say thank you to Bob C. I lost count on how many fish we landed this summer on you. All over this planet fins fell to your minnow.

Salt River - if people only knew how many Bass swing your waters.

Got to love the Super Bowl Sunday at the Pan.

Lee Ball showing us how to get it done in Basalt.

Finding hidden gems with T.

Bristol with Bob

Flying to the stream above with Bob

What can I say.

H's first Smallmouth

Four-billzion takes to finally get the one.

Leeball on the Blue

Coy Love

Carp Obsession with Ben

I heart carp

SID Update

2010-11-26T12:32:00.000-08:00

So many things going on, so little time. If you haven't seen the latest Fly Fisherman we've got a couple Musky shots in the feature article we're proud of. Thanks FF for spreading the SID lifestyle around. Looks like Fly Fish Journal might have picked up a couple images too this next run, pretty cool.

First real update, SID 5 will be out by XMAS. We have a bunch of really great content this run, looking forward to having another issue behind us.    Haven't been fishing. Shoulder needed a bit of attention from a medical professional, that is now good to go.. hopefully.

Looking forward to a couple days in the deer stand here shortly after we get back from Hawaii. (Maybe look around a bit for a Bone or two while I'm living Island XMAS life. We'll see!) I love to hunt end of season. Most guys have left the woods, and animals start acting like.. animals again. We will most likely shoot a late season deer tag fill in the snow, pictures to follow.

My friends at Match The Hatch have been keeping me busy with articles on the Southwest for 2011. On top of the 2011 SID filled SWFF you will see our AK adventure in FR&R, a Cheap trips guide in FF, and our images popping up all places in-between. The Big O has picked a number of our trips for their 2011 catalogs - you will be pleased to see lots of "you" in their upcoming mailings.

Amongst the images TU picked up for 2011 was Hudson for (I think) the month of July- could be August, can't remember.

I got asked to do an interview with Outdoor Life a week ago or so that was pretty cool. It's hard to not look at all these opportunities and feel pretty lucky. There are so many better photographers out there, and pretty much everyone is better writer, I just can't believe the publications keep asking for more. Very, very blown away that we're still getting requests, feel like the curtain has to fall and someone will step out and say, "Psych" at any moment.   Outdoor Life Interviews Aaron Otto.

Looks like the guys over at Bloodknot are going to highlight our little blog here next issue. That should be neat. They have a pretty cool mag you should check out if you get time. I dig the content and actually take the time to read it. Most of my print mags, I just chuck after previewing for images or articles that stand out. Cool thing they've got going on. Was a bit surprised they asked to put our blog in it, but flattered none-the-less. I haven't had much personal exposure to the guys over there, but they seem like good doods- check it out.

We didn't get to float the new boat this season, really bummed there. Tried three times, but the freezing rain killed our season. It will sit in our garage all winter and be worked on. I have some big modification ideas, we will see. Plan on shooting the entire winter's work.

Dec will be mostly deer hunting, pheasants, and an ice-trip or two. We will be headed to fish the Pan this Jan again, and the Keys for an off season Tarpon run. Feb, nothing planned for real at the moment, but March will take a group of us back to Pyramid Lake, then April to Argentina for Clear Water Golden Dorado in small streams. May is back to the Baja to chase roosters with the same old crowd, good people for sure.

Looks like more tying and planning in the near future, less fishing. Hmmmmm.......

Read a quote by Hemingway the other night, one I hadn't seen before, but was so spot on that I have to use it, "Somebody just back of you while you are fishing is as bad as someone looking over your shoulder while you write a letter to your girl." -Ernest Hemingway

I've been reading back issues of Hatch magazine lately, I really like this one. Seems like I refer back to it at least a few times per year when I'm looking for something different to read. I love their covers. I want to shoot a cover for them of a fly steaming in the sun. I think that would be too cool.

I used to read the Drake the most, but I'm relating to it less lately. I'm starting to get the feeling it's a magazines just for guides, although Tom's sense of humor is hilarious, some of the other stuff isn't really connecting with me now. Maybe I'm just old. Photography still is spot on though, the creative eye for that rag is unreal. I have a hard time when through with the latest issue: do I shoot or fish?

Got a couple Hatch reels recently, going to put them through the ringer.. will report later on this next year how they stand up. I'm looking to buy some Sharkskin to spool them up with. I know folks give it a bad wrap for sound, but dang you can toss that line a country mile! Besides I got a buddy back working there at SA again, you have to support that. Sorry Rio, changing out lines to SA.

I got a hold of my very first SAGE Bass Rod a month ago or so. Casted their proto-type PMP rod too. This one is putting me in a bad spot. I have another buddy who works for the Big O and really has taken care of me, and he doesn't have to. Companies like Orvis and Patagonia have real photographers and much better anglers than me lining up to get their business. I love the Helios, maybe the greatest rod I've ever casted, but for fishing Musky and Bass, throwing big, big flies this BASS line by SAGE is pretty tough to beat. Holly-Je...us can you throw line with a short rod, and it casts all day. Sage doesn't give me a discount, and has never sent me a thing besides increasing repair bills for tips snapped off: So this is about as honest as you can get, If you're throwing after Musky you really need to keep your eye on their series. It will save your shoulder and arm.

In closing there were a couple folks we lost here recently, people who made a difference for many of us.

I've never asked anything I guess for folks to do other than just read along, but tonight I would really like to think there are few folks tipping one back for Rich and Tom. A silent toast given between wraps of your favorite bug would be a act worthy of reaching them above.

Tom the Midwest will never be the same, "Here's to you."

Rich, "When I see you, you know what we're doing. You can cast first, I'm taking your picture."

El Capitan

2010-11-16T18:46:00.000-08:00

I picked H up and put him in the new S.S. SID. He's standing on the deck of the boat looking at me, eye to eye and says, "Dad we need to talk." First of all, he's four years old. A bold statement made by an adult, but catching me completely off guard made by such a little guy.

Hudson further goes on to say, "I really want to ice fish, but this new boat is so cool and would make a great pirate ship. We should get out the telescope and be pirates. Also dad, you should know that I'm really a secret super hero and the bad-guys aren't allowed on our ship, because that would give away my secret identity."

At that moment, I just grabbed him up and squeezed. I love moments that remind you of how in love you are with your kids. That was one of them for me. He's just awesome. I let the camera roll after that just H and me in the garage goofing off. The front seat has his name on it. He's already asked how we could take the seat off so he could stand on the cooler and fish.

Have to give a big thank you to Hyde. Jim at Hyde really took care of me. I don't feel worthy- thank you.

Just What the Dr. Ordered

2010-11-05T19:53:00.000-07:00

So I'm supposed to be taking it easy right now. I had plans to go visit some new friends in Cali for a really good cause. However, without getting into it, life - or my life- got in the way. The Doc says, "No Casting." I agree, because some stuff still need to be figured out. Bummed out, because there was a couple guys I wanted to fish with pretty bad. Fishy guys, good guys, the kind of guys who know SID.

Long story short, the Doc said nothing about lifting my lens close to my house. He said no travel, and no casting a long rod... jokingly I thought, "How will I pee?" LOL.

Let's round this one out. Instead of catching a $632.33 flight I had bought to go fish, I met some buddies while I waited for a certain phone call. My buddies happen to be doing something I love: Shooting Birds. Won't hold you in suspense, got the call, I'm good to go as soon as some healing takes place.

Roll the footage:

Musky Halloween

2010-10-31T20:01:00.000-07:00

Hot on the....

Fat 44 fell to something tied Lucky.

The night of the Musky Ball. Too much drinking. Got Schnockerd.

Shot up to Hayward to support our friend Brad's first annual Musky Ball. We had a ball, such a ball, I drank so much that I left my camera in the car. Didn't take one picture.

Hopefully, there will be a 2nd annual ball so I can temper the juice a bit and snap a few clicks to have something besides an empty bottle of Aspirin to show for my time up in Muskyville.

I'm not so young anymore.... paid a heavy price all Saturday for this one.

Turnout was good. Guessing a couple hundred people showed up in support of their favorite fin and it's angling King, Brad.

Forgot to grab a Tshirt, will have to see if I can round one up from the crew that put the event on later.

We had a great time with the usual suspects, listened to some wonderful music by a local Musky band. Their featured tune was an ode to Brad and his world record even adding the verse, "Zero to Hero" into the song marking Bardly's coined saying about fishing the big fin.

Overall it was a wonderful outing, catching up with friends, making new fishing plans, and dancing a bit of our night away. Will have to take it easy on the juice next year and snap a couple shots. Would have been great to have captured Brad's PIMP costume on film.

Speaking of PIMPs we made a new friend at the local fly shop. Never been into Hayward Fly Company before. The gentleman behind the counter was kind enough to let us go out back and toss a proto-type SAGE mysteriously named PMP; for Pike, Musky, and Peacock. A short stick, very similar to the Bass Rod I was throwing (by Sage), the Largemouth, but with a bit more "Umph" to it. Pretty cool.

After soaking up the previous night's booze with hard road breakfast we headed home. Little Addison was sick, and my folk 's had been kind enough to keep an eye on her for us.

Before we left town I prayed for forgiveness at my church and asked for kindness to the fly from my large finned friends. I had a trip planned for a local lake the next day, and figured it couldn't hurt.

As shown from the first shot in this serious I think the Fish God Musky-Titus was listening. Rewarding this disciple with a healthy fish, thick as hell.

You have to love the Hamms official Musky sign.

The next day Harmon and I went out to see what praying to the fish gods would bring.

Jeff's first fish of 2010, a little guy, but happy he was none-the-less.

Jeff is a gear guy and teaches me a lot about the game of 5000 casts. I feel pretty lucky that Jeff let's me ride along and throw flies off the back of his boat while he chucks these huge lures off the front and trolls suckers out the rear. Every time I go out with Jeff I learn something. Truly a dedicated angler if there ever was one. I know it's no the popular opinion in our quiet sport, but I love fishing with gear guys. My bass buds down in AZ from the Hook up fish after buckets like a science. Every time I get the chance to fish with guys throwing hardware I jump on it. Always a learning opportunity.

AMEN

Silvers on the Mind

2010-10-24T11:37:00.000-07:00

I've been playing Wii all morning with H. Time to turn my attention to get ready for a couple upcoming trips. Headed to the Delta in a couple weeks for a benefit, don't have a single bug tied. Got a Musky weekend or two coming up, again a couple bugs tied. Need to get busy.

In the garage are a couple storage bins full of bugs. I found a case from a recent Bristol adventure on top with a white printed Label, "Bristol Bay: Silvers". There is something about throwing Dry flies (POGs) at 12-20 pound salmon that gets a guys blood just going.

I'm hoping to get to go back next year. Hopefully the photos were good enough to warent a return trip. That's always a huge fear of mine when I go out on a trip with photos for an outfitter. In a dark place, stuck somewhere between reality and the click of my shutter lays the possibility that I could fail someone who just paid for my trip in exchange for images. Last week I saw Sweetwater Travel using my images already, that is a serious heavy load off my back. The possibility of doing something with so much of myself invested in not being used scares the crap out of me. The weight of the possible-failure never really leaves me until I've seen the images or read the words in print. So with a sigh of relief, mind can start to enjoy some of the crazy fishing memories made in Alaska this year.

Here is some of my Silver-sickness. I've caught the bug.

Carp'N the Exotics

2010-10-19T05:19:00.000-07:00

Working on an Urban Phoenix article for SWFF we spent some time looking for things to chase with the city limits of Arizona's Capital. Here are a couple shots of what we found in and around the neighborhood.

A "Little" Musky Love

2010-10-11T09:39:00.000-07:00

Got to spend the day with friends Mark, Lucky, Marv, and a new friend Jayson. What a wonderful day to be on the river, low 80s F, slight breeze, scattered clouds and everyone's favorite Toothy Critter: the Musky.

We pinned one little guy about 36 inches, I had a couple eats and one other really nice follow. Looking to buy a drift boat ASAP. I figure I can get at least ten more days out before the end of the year and it's just turning into prime time. More to come laters!

The Midnight Musky Blues

2010-10-09T19:25:00.000-07:00

I'm up like it was the night before Christmas and I was ten.

I've found a few fish that haunt me like Musky. Roosters are a different game and so are Permit. Silvers on a Dry fly are similar but have much larger numbers in migration compared to resident toothy Musky. If you look at the most recent publication of Fly Fisherman you can sneak a peak at some images captured with my amigos: Lucky and Bardly. Musky Tribesmen setting the bar both Lucky and Brad are the core and heart of Musky angling. It's the heart that seems to comes back to me over and over. I don't know what I would do if I didn't fish. I do know one thing it has to do with with my heart.

Tomorrow I fish for Musky with a friend and a friend. Mark, my fellow angler I have known since I was young. We have been friends for a long time. I have spent many days with Mark on the water. I'm a lucky guy for each one of them.

Our Oarsmen, Lucky, is a fisherman with a golden soul. l love the work coming from FeltSoul Media, the vibe they give off reminds me of Lucky. He's just that kind of fishy-dood. Lives his life one fin at at time, smiling every day in-between.

Good people, our tribe of SID, these are just a couple. I'm thankful for my fishing buddies. Thankful tomorrow, I may have a rare chance to connect with the fish that eludes so many, a giant Midwestern Musky. If not, well, guess what: It's a day on the water with guys who know SID.

Bristol Bay with Sweetwater Travel

2010-10-07T18:17:00.000-07:00

Double Pog-Silvers caught a couple hundred yards from the ocean.

Sea Lice still on this Hen.

The Hydros Beast

Swhirl

Sharon with a nice Char

Brad with Bow

Brad with nice char.

Rainbow and Bob

Giant Bow

Silver Country

Silver

Bob on the water. Please note the weight in front.

Beautiful Colors

Rare Albino Char

Nice Beaver

Beaver Landing

Add caption

Bob in the Morning before flight.

Add caption

Back to our Regularly scheduled Program

2010-09-24T23:15:00.000-07:00

Been a long two months. I had one break in between a spell of being a single dad, packing my house up for moving, and being plum in the middle of the biggest financial merger in the history of the world. Crazy times for my life of little water lately.

For all intensive purposes I'm pretty much single with little ones in tow. Wife has been working a job out of town for six weeks. Doing anything other than surviving consists of a thirty second shower I get if the kids don't wake up before the water gets hot enough to get in, dump soap on my head, and get out.

I'm praying that some time this week, my last week in Arizona, that I get one last chance to visit some old friends in a trickle up north of Phx and just south of the Rockies. If so, I'm taking H with me. Who knows though, my life at work is pretty rough at the moment. Getting to play hooky for the day may not happen. I've got five teams right now, mostly here in Arizona, but one in India too, another group in California. Sorting through their struggles has been taking a lot of my time.

It's hard for me not to invest myself in people who work for me. I care about them, even the ones I don't necessarily like. Not sure if this is a sign I shouldn't be a manager or a sign that I should learn to be less emotionally involved? Only time and my firing could tell. For right now, I remind myself with a post-it-note stuck to the bottom of my inside desk drawer, "They're not my kids." Not written in a bad sense, although sometimes I think it should be. Written with the sediment that a conscious reminder of my employees aren't my blood relatives helps me make hard decisions in the face of harder choices. Interesting how we rationalize as beings responsible for more than themselves. This is cathartic, screw fishing blog, I should actually admit to my work struggles publicly more often: feeling better already.

So I got to fish in July maybe August, I don't remember with my friend Chris again. Chris is good for my soul. We laugh more than we do anything else. I need a reminder of how guys can be super-together, top of the career, and still laugh. We got to fish a little river outside a town that shall be a town for the sake of this drip of random lettering. I promised a guy a while back who I don't really fish with anymore, I wouldn't write about this one. Haven't yet, outside my blog, but still feels like I shouldn't. So anywho.. This river is the river to end all Brown Trout rivers in this part of the planet. Chris and I spent a few days playing hopper-scotcher, wine drinking, hammock swinging, fish-t-farians there during the prime time. It was fishTastic with a capital T.

Spent some time in Bristol Bay with my friend Bob. Wow. Wow. Wow. Will post and write more about all this. For now signing off. Kids are finally snoring and I want to poor myself a stiff drink, maybe read a book on how to be a better manager, and hit the rack. Guaranteed, Addison, will be up at 5am asking for "Cheer-Os". Better be ready.

Until later, somebody fish for me, not sure it will happen any time soon.

ao

SID 4 Kids Edition is LIVE!

2010-08-26T07:37:00.000-07:00

Click here for a direct link to issue 4 SID KIDS

A little San Juan Via Boise Action

2010-08-12T21:10:00.000-07:00

I will write some stuff about this trip later. Need to finish SID 4.

July Recap: Been Fishing so much no time to post!

2010-08-10T15:59:00.000-07:00

White Mountain Daydreams: Sunrise Lake

Big Lake Boat Dock

Big Lake Cutty

Back Home: Where it all began for me, continued for him.

Little Pimp Putting the Hurt on a Blue Gill

The Trophy

A quick trip to the Ferry.. but more to come here too.

Just got back from the San Juan via Idaho. Will post the report later this week. Working on SID 4: All Kids should be out this month.

Been A couple weeks

2010-07-02T22:23:00.000-07:00

Busy bee lately. Pulling my tale-hairs out one by one at work. 70 hours at the old inbox this week. Up at 230AM to return email, playing catch up in a current that isn't swimable for a management that stands up when they should sit down, and sits down when they should catch bullets.

Bright spots were a couple weeks ago. Spent some time with my friend Chris, his son Cameron, and H. Got lost in all that is good with being a dad. I'm found of phrase, "Reclaim your youth, take them fishing." That is exactly what we did.

My heart is still beating between the southern reaches of the Black River and the Ferry. Hudson fell asleep on my chest. Swinging in the hammock, his hair matted on my check. He slept safely in my arms. In the shade of Junipers we napped as the slow roll of the Black River lazily passed us by.

Bluebird skies carried hot sun overhead. The water, gin clear, carried away the heat and thigh high rocks presented an inviting sit. Cooling down at the Black. If I click my heels three times can I go back?

We actually started on Lake P. Switched to conventional gear, tried our luck at the drop shot. It came back aces.

More to come..

Inspiration

2010-06-08T21:52:00.000-07:00

Inspiration takes many shapes for me. I like order. My workspace below is kept in order despite the chaos my life seems to be pulled towards. Some days I feel the "oldest child" in me will be the death of me. A topic for another therapy session. This particular trip to the couch is reserved for those who are dear.

If you were to open up the notebook right of my Wacom Tablet you would see a long time tradition of mine I haven't shared with anyone. Since I can remember I have been drawing notes and maps on locations fished in moleskin notebooks. Going on ten years plus now. This particular notebook happens to be for my son. As we are about to embark on our first Father-Son road trip, a week long fishing adventure, I have taken to drawing the locations we will fish, including the bugs, and their materials used into this notebook. The plan is to have all locations planned to fish written into this notebook for Hudson so some day in the future he can review our trip, maps of places fished and bugs used. During our adventure I'm planning on adding detail to each location, only drawing out rough sketches pre-trip as place holders for the trip's happenings to be filled in... as they happen.

Please forgive my penmanship, it's a close second to my command of the English language. I don't really know what the reason was for my first notebook. All I know is I have a couple shoe boxes full of these things now spanning the better part of the 90s and now full into the double-ought. Places like the Baja all the way to small creeks in Winsconsota

cover the pages of journals. I don't have many folks to share them with. To be honest, I was a bit scared to share with anyone I have been a closet-map maker of fishing locations since I picked up a long rod. Now ready to take H on his first road trip, I came to the thought: he will inherit these journals some day. There is honor in that and took away some of the apprehension of sharing the activity that has consumed my time for so many years. Granted, these sketches are far from art, but making full circle; back to art. The space I use to write articles, edit photos and respond to SID email has one thing in view from my seat (outside an picture of my two kids)- a painting by my dear friend Bob. "An Outside Chance". Bob is my inspiration. He and I have shared a correspondence over the years that I feel reflects that of the tender-hearted forefathers of fly fishing. Now I don't share Bob or the forefathers talent to make words dance off a page and draw a reader into their living room, but I do partake in the desire to correspond with people and on topics meaningful.

Take "An Outside Chance" (upper right corner of first photo). A man walks a misty stream, looking for something worth casting to. My life is this image over and over. The hundred feet or so in front of me, is anything but clear, yet I walk. Looking forever, for that next rise. Bob's work speaks to me on that kind of level. Having the opportunity to know him to will be forever one of the greatest privileges of my life. I stare at this painting daily. For me, it is the Kinni. The river I grew up on. I would wake up mornings in college, after a life time of conventional fishing, and drive out to a misted - stream with high limestone walls peppered with deciduous trees and green growth.

If you get a chance, look at Whitefish studios. Bob's paintings are everywhere an outdoors man looks, but there are such unique stories to his work that each piece shares a piece of his soul. Those tiny pieces of Bob that come through in the paint inspire me. They inspire me to be a better person, a better angler, a better dad. Passing along to my son some day his art, journals, and my story.

Take a look at Bob's stuff, see how easy it is to see yourself.

On the eive of Issue 3 we get some Cover Love from Fly Fusion

2010-05-30T18:33:00.000-07:00

Home waters: Musky Country. SID Getting some Love for another Cover.

Just Saying

2010-05-28T18:05:00.000-07:00

Guess my mom was out at Pyramid lake. Thanks Brad. Hope you made it home safely.

brother from another mother -ao

McCloud

2010-05-26T22:17:00.000-07:00

Flying into SFO seems like a weekly event for me lately. This time, however, was for fun not work. I caught the Marin Ariporter heading North from San Fran. Chris met me after a couple hops and a change of buses. Jumping into his new FJ we tore up road on our way through Redding.

The sun dipped quick, behind the Horizon. Conversation carried the miles past Shasta and around the area of the McCloud River. Fishing buddies, you can count on, are something worth their weight in gold. Seems warm water friends plague me as of late. I've never been easy to get, so suspect it's just par for the course called: my life and social awkwardness. Back to the trip at hand, Chris pulled his Trail Edition FJ into a dark campground.

Helping me string my Hammock between two trees we laughed at the prospect of seeing our breath when the weather reports called for balmy temps and sunny days. I have to say for those of you who have tried Sleeping in the Dirt, but not "In the Trees", you should give it a whirl. This is a pretty nice way to catch some Zzzzs. Air pocket below you while sleeping is key. Making sure you add a mat (that stays inflated) helps a ton. Those of you who use the Big Agnes setup- make sure you bring your pad insert. The lack of material at your back would cause a cool night, even in great temps.

I slept in a Marmot Ranger with a Big- A pad, which by the way deflated last night. Not sure how I puncture so many pads, but I seem to go through a half a dozen a year. Good thing I bough this one at REI. Will take the pad back this week.

We got up early to do some scouting the next day. First, we lit up our Jet Boils and brewed a blend I brought back from CR. Chris prefers Tea, so we boiled some water and strained away.

I have to tell you, I'm not much for product reviews, but "Damn" is a Jet boil one badarese way to cook. I usually travel with a stack of those camping meals in a bag- the just add water type. Even at altitude do they work. Pretty good shiz. Dirt approved even after paying full price twice for one. The airlines let me carry the fuel canister onboard in my backpack, I couldn't believe it. (US Airways). Maybe they could tell I didn't match the profile. LOL.

Profiling is turning into a full time job down here in AZ, our crazy politics have landed us in the National spotlight. One question: What happened to the Melting Pot concept? The state I was traveling too had a great quote from the, " I had a speaking engagement in Arizona, but had to decline. I was afraid they would deport me."

After having our morning pick-me-up, we did a little exploration. Redband hunt, although we didn't fish, more poked around.

Although we didn't find the famed "Redband", we did speak to a camp keeper who had been fishing the local area since the 1950s. He mentioned that the Red-bands left were so tiny (eight inches or less) they weren't worth chasing.

Interesting I thought for multiple reasons I won't go into, but none the less always good to get info from a source who's ear has been to the ground since before I was able to crawl on it.

The amount of water in California amazes me. I think I could live in Northern California and never grow tired of looking for new water. The Chrome opportunity alone is worthy of a lifetime. We didn't get the chance to stop in at the Fly Shop, but next time. Those guys are worth checking out. Freely they give info. Not sure that is the M.O. for most shops I find my way around. Old-school with young blood. If in Redding, check them out. Not sure what happened to helping a brother out concept in fly fishing, but seems that it is fading away more and more these days.

After a quick couple checks and some more miles in the FJ we made our way to the McCloud. I have to tell you I don't think there is a more beautiful river in North America. I wrote about my last trip in SID3, but "Damn" this river is easy to get lost in.

I'm going to pitch the picture left to my friends at FR&R for a cover shot. I know it's not the norm, but I think I actually like this picture. More than I can say for most shots I take. I usually detest my lack of written ability, combined with so many better photographers out there... well.. self loathing is my natural go to.
Seems like for everything I try, someone does it so, so much better and I end up just embarrassing myself by putting out piss and dribble.

The picture left though feels good. It was what I saw before I put the camera to my nugget: colors, composition, and mood. The end result doesn't happen much for me. In this case it did. Who knows if Fly Rod and Reel will even think it worthy of printing a quarter page, but I like it and so we'll see what they say after submitting it to them.

Chris and I fished all day in the lower sections of the McCloud only raising a tiny rainbow and having a couple bumps to carry us through our otherwise short-of-fish day.

The next morning we got up, and covered for ground looking for water that hopefully held more fish.

Driving onto pavement and then back off again we came across some of California's wildlife. We saw Coyotes, a pair of Osprey, what I think we're Mule Deer (but maybe Cali has some type of other black tailed dear?), a family of Otters swimming down river, and a rare Golden Bear - the state Animal. Funny enough, I asked, "Is that a Pitbull", when approaching the smallish bear. A big square head on a small body resembling a dog more than a bear. I jumped out of a rolling FJ to snap a picture, but all I caught with the lens was a bear taking a momentary stop to poop before descending the slope stage-right.
We finally found water that was low enough to fish that it appeared approachable(and it had stopped hailing). We rigged up and pulled our waders back on. Soon Chris had hooked up.

The fish pulled and an Able imploded. Despite the technical difficulties Chris was able to land a beautiful rainbow he was later to call, "Dinner."

They have an interesting, and mature, slot limit in California. Fish above eighteen inches can be harvested. I tend to not eat many fish throughout the season, however, if you are going to take fish California has the right idea. Take the larger fish from the system opening up territory and room for other fish to reproduce and claim ground. I was surprised to see such a progressive policy in California, wish Arizona would catch on.

Couple more shots from the day. Time to go to bed.

Sid 3: Road Trip

2010-05-19T23:16:00.000-07:00

Full Screen View:
Road Trip # 3

8

Savlen Art & the Baja

2010-05-19T06:33:00.000-07:00

Stumbled across this thought it was neato. Mike Savlen painting a picture I took of friend Eric Rathbun, a.k.a Reel Pure, a.ka. Moldy Chum last year down in the Baja.

On my way to fish the MCCloud with a friend. Going to have some cool posts upon return. Hope you are a well. One article left to be edited and Issue 3 will be, should be out tonight!

Idle Wild Bass Fishing Video - this is great. Can't wait to try these bugs out!

2010-05-13T19:56:00.001-07:00

Bass Flies by Kevin Price from kevin price on Vimeo.

The Fam & Plan B... C.... D

2010-05-02T12:16:00.000-07:00

So Plan A was to help out a Professor trying to capture Gila Spawning behavior in the Gila Wilderness Area. The one weekend that Lance Armstrong decides to show up to a bike race in the tiny town of Silver City and all rooms are booked, we moved to plan B.

Plan B was to spend the weekend outside with the family hiking the East fork of the Black river, have dinner with our dear friend Chip and Penny, and maybe catch a little fishing on the South Fork of the Little Colorado Sunday morning and head home.

Car packed and family ready to roll, we headed off to the White Mountains. We ate at Charlie Clark's steakhouse and got a couple rooms at the Holiday Inn Express a mile or so down the road in Pinetop. The next morning came early and brisk. Snow capped roofs on the truck told Tara and myself we needed a Plan C. My folks are getting of the age where snow and cold exposure tends to turn moods sour. Can't blame them, not sure how much I love the cold anymore either. So Plan C was hatched, by Google and Weather search next to hour or less drives to water from Pinetop, Sho-Low Area.

Workman Creek & the Solome Wilderness Area was showing a chance of 80F. Silver Creek, near 50F, and East Fork of the Black River was 45F for a high. It took less then the time to order breakfast for my parents to vote on Workman Creek. We decided to go through Globe and share some of Arizona History with Hudson and Addison.

Pulling into Besh-Ba-Gowah Archaeological Site Hudson had to pee for the fifth time. We ran to the bathroom and then started walking through the "Castle". Parents use words their children can relate to in order to infuse enthusiasm. The ruins dating back to 1140 A.D. were once populated by hundres of Salado Indians. The runis themselves were built atop Hohokam pit dwellings dating pre 500 A.D. The entire site is nestled inside homes, a softball field, and government buildings. One of the largest sites in the Southwest, it's hard to not feel a bit sickened by the urban sprawl invading all corners of this historical monument. Agave, Yucca, and Poppies carpet the earthen floor. Lizards, humming birds, and bright red Cardinals can be seen throughout the site. Hudson, called out the first Lizard he saw as, "The Car company Lizard: Gecko." Naming

and claiming he asked if we could get a lizard as a pet, hinting at this one as if it would be okay to take him home with us.

Rounding up after a quick trip through the Open-To-The-Public section we piled up in car again. In reverse, and rolling out of the parking lot, "Dad I have to go potty."

On the road ten minutes later we headed out highway 188. Nice view of Rosy as we followed 88 around the lake. Headed up into the Salome Wilderness area close to 40 miles outside Globe south of Young. Now Young is a special kind of place reserved for those who don't want presence of any government, including ours. Historically speaking it has been the birthing grounds for some of Arizona's bloodiest feuds. Rival families started practicing mass murder back before the turn of the century when the Graham Clan attacked the Tewksbury Clan for harboring safe-haven to sheep. Long story short they killed each other down to the very last family member. Tread lightly and try not to leave trace nor wear your woolen scarf while visiting Young.

Back to the story... We had just crossed over Workman Creek Bridge and were driving the dirt turnoff towards the falls. Turns out four miles up the road, the Forestry Service had closed the road. We had to hike the last mile or so up to the falls. Packing up sixty pounds of camera gear, god knows why, Tara strapped on our baby-backpack and I inserted Addison. Hudson grabbed his rod, and my folks started ahead of us to get an early start.

Hiking up to a 200 foot falls is worth every step. Nothing short of breathtaking, especially for those practicing a non-cardio diet, the water spouting out of cliff and down to Workman Creek is beautiful. Coming close to the edge is easy, no rails to hold you back. Straight down, 200 feet of rock, and a crushing fall for those not sure of foot. It struck me like a swat to the back of the head, how close beauty and tragedy were standing out on the lip trying to place my tripod for a shot in howling winds that swept through the canyon. Not the way I would like to die, in front of the family, but amazing how nature tasted so much more alive while an inch from falling off it. I took Hudson close one time, and then he had to go to the other side of the trail and stay in GMA's arms. No jokes here, he is way to active to get close.

I handed Tara the Camera and climbed out onto the ledge as close to the experience as I could get. She walked down the path a ways to find a shot that would work. I gave her the wrong lens, but this is what we came out with. I will have to go back with the 70-200 and re shoot this. I think early morning light would give this East Facing Waterfall a spectacular misty-rainbow and the reach to get the angler standing perch over the lower section of the creek armed with fly rod.

We wrapped up our falls shooting session and headed to the creek. Although I didn't snap pictures, I swear the first fish I saw, landed, and released was a Cutthroat. It looked pastel like, Lahanton almost. Not possible to be the same strain from the Sierras, but it shook me a bit. Like a sneaky suspicion someone else besides a government organization has been at work here.

I found a pool with a couple dozen willing fish in it, however Hudson got frustrated with getting hung in the low hanging Arizona Maple branches dripping over head. So I took the rod for him and casted to a few fish, hooked and handed over.

Hard for not to get choked up recalling this to you, even in type. I pray that I don't ever loose the memory of the pure joy lit across his face fighting the tug at the other end of that line. He squeeled, calling out how big the fish was before he had even seen its first flash. "Dad it's a huge, this is a big one, wahoooo." Hudson celebrated for nothing other than a tug on the other end of his line. Simple, intoxicating, and perfect from this dad's perspective.

He lost the first one and I think he actually cussed, but his mom didn't catch it so I won't tell. We repeated the previous scenario, this one a little bigger. Hudson cackled loudly again, calling out a five-gillion pounder. Sensing he would get to land this one, Mom moved in. We wanted Hudson to stay dry as long as possible. Being all "Boy", he tends to get messy just by looking at dirt. I don't think he even has to touch it, just be near it, and it ends up in his hair, mouth, eyes, cloths you name it. Something we were trying to avoid in an meager attempt to keep the grandparent's car too dirty.

Despite our best efforts, mom fumbled the fish, and Hudson jumped in after the prize. Luckily only knee deep he helped pull the line out from around a root and lofted the fish for mommy to land.

After a couple more hook ups and spooking what I thought was a true monster for a small creek like this, Dad and mom had vowed to return to this creek. She holds surprises for sure. On this day she held what I know as true-love. The love of my little-man squeeling over fish, spent with those who despite popular pole, don't leave. You break it all down and you will find few things matter, this weekend we did some of those.. Take your kids fishing.

My new motto is this, "Reclaim your youth, take them fishing."

Gila Weekend

2010-04-30T06:06:00.000-07:00

Taking H and the fam-dam-ly down to the Gila Wilderness this weekend. Looking forward to some time away from the Cage. My folks have decided to come down with us. Should be interesting. The road down to the river we're driving is 4x4 only. My parents are more sidewalk-stroller types.

Should be a fun trip.

Will post some shots upon return. Would be coolio to see a four year old landing a Gila trout.

Safe travels this weekend.

ao

Little Love from Fly Rod & Reel

2010-04-24T12:13:00.001-07:00

Inside Cover from the SID garage straight to you: Presentations Section of current Fly Rod & Reel

Something from the Archives

2010-04-23T15:41:00.000-07:00

Poking around last year's hard drives. Looking for images to send to a friend who has a Journal of such.

Came across a trip I remember fondly. A couple images from the archives of things rare and gone.

Back from CR & My Friend Bob

2010-04-19T19:55:00.001-07:00

So fishing was pretty tough. Unexpected rains put the kabosh on the salt fishing. Cloudy water made it hard for the baitfish to ball up. The typical inshore gamefish found crashing bait were no where to be found. The fishing at Lake Arenal was even tough too, not touching a fish over two pounds.

We had quite the adventure though- running up river into the jungle and floating back to sea. We will share the entire trip with folks in issue three coming out this May.

For right now was thinking about spreading the light on my friend Bob White's site. Bob's paintings have been the medium for which I have taught my son fishing. Since an early age Hudson and I would tear out the back page of FR&R and talk about the fish, the fishing pictures, or what ever it was Bob had painted to illustrate John G's column. Sometimes Hudson and would trace the paintings or color the actual pages themselves.

Afterwords Hudson would take the ripped page and place it into his Fishy Box. A shoe box under my tying bench that we had decorated together for Hudson to save all his treasures. I counted the other day and there are quite a few of Bob's paintings folded up in that box, along with a couple of flies, a box of crayons, and lego man missing an arm.

See the thing is with Bob, his paintings speak to me. Even before Hudson and I started our collecting of Bob's work, I had saved his back page for myself. Seemed there was a connection to what Bob was painting and the words I could never find to express what I was thinking while on the water myself.

I think any outdoorsman in recent years would be hard pressed to not have been exposed to some of Bob's work. He's illustrated, more magazines and books than I can count. Despite this tremendous amount of success Bob has taken the time to play an important role in the life of nobodies like me.

A few Christmas's ago, I shared the story above about my son with Bob. A week or two later a tube came in the mail, with a note. Opening up the package revealed two sets of pen drawings of flies by Bob White on poster sized paper. The post-it note attached said, "Have H color these in. When he's done let me know and I'll send some new ones for him to work on next."

Later in life I shared with my friend Bob, how I had desired to be a writer my entire life. However, despite my desire, I didn't have the aptitude or ability to see my dream come to fruition. His response to me was, "Aaron do what you love and the world will come crashing in to support it."

Now a couple years later I have lost track of the number of articles published.

Few people in this life do you get to meet who's talent is only exceeded by their character. In that vien I would sincerely like to think that those of you who read this blog, those of you who "Know SID", and most of all for those of you who feel like the lifestyle is something worthy of pursuit take a minute to look at Bob's site. Page through his work, I just bought my third piece from him tonight and will continue to add more as long as finances hold out.

He's the original painting-angler. His strokes tell the story of the life well lived: his, mine, and yours.

Whitefish Studios

Issue Three May & Costa Rica Packing

2010-04-06T20:14:00.000-07:00

Packing for Costa Rica will post some shots here in the next day or so of the process. Lots and lots of gear to prep, bugs to glue up, and maps to check.

Wanted to share a little teaser with you all of what's to come in May.

Issue Dos going strong

2010-04-04T06:32:00.000-07:00

ISSUE NUBER TWO

Since the release of Issue one we've had close to 491k hits across the two magazines. Can I get a "HELL YEAH" for Grass Roots Angling power.

We feel that with that number comes a pretty big responsibility. So the folks over here at SID would like you to look at a couple sites for us. Call it a "Favor" of goodwill. Please take a couple minutes to click on the following sites and give them a look-see.

AdaptiveFlyFishing.Com

Fishy Kids

Cast For a Cure

Thanks -ao

Brooklyn Land Sharks

2010-03-31T17:38:00.000-07:00

Check it out good stuff here by a fellow angler, Alex Nemeth.

"My brother, Rory, was the reason that I and the Brooklyn Landsharks decided to start our quest to cure blood cancer through triathlons. He wrote a little letter that I wanted to share:

Dear supporters and future supporters of the Landsharks,

Training for a triathlon is an arduous task. Swimming. Biking. Running. Repeat. What the Landsharks are setting out to do (again) should not be taken lightly. The only thing to get you through these workouts is to keep your eyes on the prize: finding a cure for blood cancers. Yes, finishing the race will be nice for them too, but that’s only a small part of why they have banded together with Team in Training. This year, almost 140,000 people will learn they have a blood cancer. That represents close to 10% of the newly diagnosed cancers nationwide. On June 20, 2008 I became one of the newly diagnosed."

Read more by going to the site: http://brooklynlandsharks.org/

Issue Dos

2010-03-29T21:29:00.001-07:00

ISSUE TWO FULL LINK HERE

Hudson's too young for Nine Feet.

2010-03-28T19:02:00.001-07:00

So searching for 3mm foam today spent the entire morning driving across the valley looking. Three stores visited nothing but 2mm foam. Hard to tie # six Fat Alberts with small foam. Looks like a wrinkled cricket.

Any-who, we roll into one of the Warehouse style stores that carries everything out-of-doors and there is a free casting clinic being offered up in the parking lot. Hudson immediately asks if he can go fish.

Holding hands we cross the parking lot, it's our rule. Now granted at four years of age and less feet tall he's not really screaming, "I can cast." However, when I asked the instructor if my boy could cast his response was, "I don't think he could handle it, the rods are really big."

I pushed back, but gently, " I think he can handle it." Gripping little H's shoulder.

"Well sir, this is a lot tougher than casting regular spinning gear." The instructor shot me a glare like my little guy would threaten his $150 G-Loomis rods they had lined up for casting.

At this point my wife left, "I'll be in the car honey have fun." I could sense the piss without the vinegar in her voice.

I promised the instructor I would help him, and pay for any damage he or I may cause. So three casts into me hovering over H, Hudson was done. He's not really happy when dad holds his casting arm. Independent little bugger.

We left, and I thought wow. Is this really what the message is a guy who is a paid employee of the sporting goods store should send out. Kids shouldn't fly-fish?

Is this part of the gap we see in the industry today? This kind of stuck with me all day. Are there too many fisherman so into their own fishing that the kids they have in their lives aren't getting exposure? Made me kind of sad.

If nothing else, I would think the instructor would have shown Hudson all about the fly rod, breaking it down into two pieces and letting him have at the top half. Well Mr. Instructor, here's to you:

You may have seen these Mr. Instructor, they've appeared in places like The Drake, FF, SWFF, and The Catch.

You were right Mr. Instructor, he wouldn't have been able to handle that rod. His response would have most likely been, "Dad this feels clunky."

PS - those are from about 18 months on. And yes, that is the Ferry and a Pacifier in his mouth.

So granted, some of this is "Proud-Dad". However, some of it is addressing a very big gap in today's industry. Who is next? It's not us, and it's definitely not Mr. Instructor (my father's age). The future is ours, our children. Th

Morale of the story once again: Take your kids fishing now. Don't be a "MR. Casting-Instructor."

By the way - you really should take a lesson or two. The break in your wrist was awful, and was causing the curve you thought was thew wind. Just saying if you're going to teach....

Fly Fisherman New Issue

2010-03-23T15:30:00.001-07:00

You may see a few familiar faces in the latest Fly Fisherman. Just saying it's a dirty-world. (Black River)

SID DOS at the Editors

2010-03-22T20:57:00.001-07:00

Okay - In hand of Editor Sid DOS: out 3/31. Cover for 2nd issue is from WCA (World Cast Anglers Trip) last summer. Article featured in issue two: Under the Tetons.

Line up:

Brian O'Keefe
Jay Morr
Graham Owen
Rich Schaaff
Eric DeWitt
David Mangum
Alex Landeen
Brian Schiele
Chris Short
....
...
...... and many more. 80 pages of pure fish-porn.

Issue 3 -5/31 dedicated to the Road Trip. If you live it, you will get it.

Still Getting this Question:

2010-03-21T21:30:00.000-07:00

"Who is Sleeping in the Dirt?"

Was out and about on work related trip-couple shots

2010-03-19T19:41:00.000-07:00

So was in SF on work. Got sick-r-dan-shiz. Not much fun to be out of town and ill. Long story short I sucked down redbull, five-hour energy, and day quill for three days straight. At night I had to entertain business. Not something I generally mind, however when you're coughing yellow flem by the gallon, not a ton of fun.

Last night I got a minute or six to take the rental out to the Golden Gate Bridge. Couple snaps from the trip. Home now. Working on issue Dos of SID. Just saying, bar-all the format, spelling, and general bad publishing skillz by yours truly: this one is looking "SICK".

We wrang in strong thanks to the folks reading this post, "YES YOU", on the first run. Hoping my mom doesn't have to hit reload on her browser a couple hundred thousand times on Two to make me feel good about hits. Non-the-less wanted to say, folks are contributing for free. So if you see something you like, please check their site, mag, or info out. Not saying this to try and sell you anything, sincerely just doing the right thing. If you like what you see, check out their digs. I think the folks who are contributing have some serious skillz, hopefully you will too.

The Office Messing up my Fishing

2010-03-15T22:18:00.001-07:00

Rough day at the office. Got the worst year end review I've had in ten years. Ironic part is I've never worked so much and fished so little. Morale of this story folks: go fish. I can get poor reviews on 40 hours a week not 70. You make choices in life, we all do. I don't have much of a choice when it comes to work, I think I may be hard wired to commit 150%, but I chose consciously this last round to turn this team around I adopted. And buy all accounts we are kicking some serious ass in that department. Politics however, well they suck guys. Never been good at playing them, right now I'm the one getting played. Morale of the story part two: "make the right choices for the right reasons." I keep telling my team that. I'm sure they're sick of hearing me preach on what they can affect versus what the can let effect them. "Words and Actions my friends." Best BS detector ever invented. When they conflict you should hear "PING". Pretty ugly snake-oil being sold around my neck of the woods. I actually got the speech, "You should be our spy" by my boss. Instructing me to report on my business partners strategy in the future. The implication was that would help my career. You have to be F-n kidding me. Sorry for the kids here didn't spell it out. Anyways, morale: Go Fish. Life is too short to not take the ones you love to the water and just spend time. I'm taking H fishing as soon as I get back from some shammy-training so six months from now I can be transferred under the guise I'm the only one trained.

Updates on things to come, life, and everything else

2010-03-14T19:57:00.000-07:00

Been working hard lately. I have a dozen plus articles due to various pubs outside our own SID. Trying to get three in for tomorrow at SWFF. If you all haven't checked out Southwest Fly Fishing you should. You ever want to get the "juice" on where to fish in the SW that is the rag showing you: HOW TO, WHERE TO & WHAT TO. Looks like they have me on the hook for close to ten articles this year. Look for Issue two 3/31. Heck maybe this time we'll get the formatting right. LOL. Most likely not.

Fly Rod & Reel is going to let me have-way with their website. So look for many "Dirt-Friendly" additions to their web presence. The whole crew will be featured from Musky to Milkfish. Should be good stuff for the next year or so.

I think Fly Fisherman will be running with a "Budget Piece" here soon. Basically, how to fish all over for little dough. Good folks over there. Ross is a good dood.

The tease still seems to be Morris-P. American Angler doesn't want to run with the goods so far. I think they've held onto a couple articles now for a year-and-a-half. Shoot, GSJ has had an Apache piece for over two years now, saying it will get done every year. Oh-well. More for SID and others I guess.

Other stuff: H broke my heart last night. Asked if he wanted to go fishing and his response was, "No, want to stay at Babboo's". Babboo= Grandma's.

Broke my heart. So T and I went out for a little hubby-wiffle time on our own. Good times, good for the soul to spend a day or two with your best friend. Pictures posted here in this rant.

We're preparing for Costa Rica round these parts right now. Two weeks chasing Gautatupe Bass and Tarpon. Should be good times. Going with Church-E and his Pops. Tara is coming as my book reading side-kick.

Looking forward to the time away. I think we will be running to CO again in May. Going to spend some time at the ROSS plant. Looking forward to that. The Evolution is still the best reel I've ever fished. Only had one blow up ever and that was in seven degrees on the San Juan a few years back.

Brought to my attention recently that folks think I'm trying hard to come off as a fish-bum. Kind of always thought of myself as the opposite. However, I get it. Good feedback. Just to share my perception of it with folks is: Being just a fish-bum would be much easier than maintaining balance of a corp-am job, family, and worldly-responsibility. Not a knock on folks who are doing it by any means. In fact I try and honor the lifestyle with every post and every article now in the magazine. Loving the chase of fin can come in many different tax brackets.

So if my affection to sleep in the dirt gets in the way of catching the message on what we're doing, sincerely sorry. I grew up in a small farming town in MN. Spending every minute I wasn't in sports outside, fishing, hiking, camping... you name it.. just to be out-of-doors.

I live my life purposefully. Cowboy angling with the best of them, but not broke. So folks, take it for what it's worth. I'm just a dad fishing my tail off, brining my little man with me everywhere I can. The guys I end up fishing with are all pretty much the same. Folks who know how important family is. Guys who spend time being good at what they do for a living so they can spend every moment out of work on the water. The balance is the tough part and the skill set in my mind that is alluding to some.

In the end - just fish. If you have a kid take them with you. I promise you a time will come, and you will wish you could get just one minute of it back.

Check out some good writing on local waters

2010-03-11T04:38:00.000-08:00

Will Jordan's site: 111 degrees west. Ironic I don't know Will, but I was just talking to my wife Tara how I have always wanted to float the Verde, but was holding off to do it with Hudson.

I open the first page of this month SWFF and guess what the article is on, and by Will.

Small world I guess.

The Catch

2010-02-28T19:07:00.001-08:00

So my friend Brian has this publication if you haven't checked it out you should.

http://www.catchmagazine.net/

Submissions

2010-02-25T20:46:00.000-08:00

Wanted to tell everyone a heartfelt thank you for all the submissions for Sleeping In the Dirt. First off, I sincerely enjoy them. There isn't a single one that hasn't made me or the group smile. I can't publish them all, so I'm not telling you a , "NO". But, I am telling you at this time (at least some of the submitted work) isn't a good fit. It's not because the stories, images, or times shared aren't good or valued by me/us. On the contrary: They are F'n great.

The truth is, there isn't enough room, or the the topic/species is already covered. "Believe me, I know 'No'. After a 1000 rejections from magazines in the past four years, I just decided to do it myself. Not because my stuff was good enough for those magazines, but because I think what I and the group has to say and show isn't what the magazines are printing. Although, they're(publications) changing. Look at the covers, the articles: much more adventure based subjet material. "Which is good in my mind." We have something different to share with folks.

So if what we're doing is connecting with you, especially for those of you who keep sending me photos and ideas, please don't be discouraged. I will try and respond to all of you. Your ideas, submissions aren't bad, they're not being passed by, it's just not the right fit for what is going on at the time. "THAT DOESN'T MEAN THEY'RE BAD". I repeat, "THAT DOESN'T MEAN THEY'RE BAD."

All it means is we have something already on that front, or it isn't a story in the vien which we are at, at this moment. If anything, don't take it poorly if we can't run with your shared experience. Most likely, you can get a magazine to buy it - pay $.

So what I'm thinking we will do is share some of the stuff that didn't work for the next couple upcoming issues here. Post a "What folks are doing" section.

For those of you we've reached out to and said, "It wasn't the best fist for us." Let me know if that works? Sincerely, we're just guys who like to fish. No one is trying to isolate or alienate anyone wanting to share stories about the topic we all LOVE.

Thanks again,

Check out our friends new site: Jay Morr

2010-02-19T16:07:00.000-08:00

Jay is a gifted photographer who really fishes hard. Give his new digs a look. It's worth your time to spend a few moments drifting in Jay's imagery.

He's exceptionally talented with a lens and a heck of an angler to boot. It's SID approved.

http://www.jaymorr.com

Went looking for Smallmouth, just a touch to early.

2010-02-17T06:39:00.001-08:00

Tara looking for early smallmouths in a creek north of Cornville.

Great way to spend V-day. Arizona, you have to love it!

250,000 PLUS - Thank you

2010-02-11T20:41:00.000-08:00

ISSUE NUMBER 1 - Out 1/31 250,000 folks took a look so far.

ISSUE NUMBER 2- Due Out 3/31

Thank you for supporting our first run at things. Lot's of good stuff to come for our second run.

email me at aaron@sleepinginthedirt.com with questions/requests/submissions etc.

Late night in Basalt

2010-02-10T17:36:00.001-08:00

What goes on at the Dirt after the lights go down? Well, glad you asked.

A couple of these, none of us remember having. Various other drinks, including a stint behind the bar as pictured in the last post. We left the car and ended up walking home, well at least two of us did. It was somewhere in the neighborhood of six out, six degrees F. Short walk by standards of our condition.

Isn't it obvious. Only one female in the bar and Lucky and Lee are single. So... they challenge our local-yocal to a Dance-off: winner take all. Crazy-Kate, as we dubbed, the local decides to take a more gymnastic route to the dance-off and commences with a kart-wheel-o-thon to best a tumbling class.

And the winner is Lee-Ball for his one man rendition of West Side Story.

Did I mention he's single and ready to mingle? If you are interested please send picture of boat. Ball-Cuzi and Cow's tongue knowledge are a major experience, ability to learn and preform on command are more important.

Update: 1031PM in Basalt

2010-02-07T21:30:00.001-08:00

Update to the minute. Churchy-behind the bar.

SN-2 Reaction: A.K.A Backside Attack in CO

2010-02-07T18:28:00.000-08:00

Hopped a plan from Arizona, Winsconsota brethren drove straight through to Colorado. Chip from down south made it north. Here's a sneak-for-your-peak at what went down.

Currently in a bar called Stubbies. Spent some time in Taylor Creek flyshop today. Some good dudes. You get a chance to run a trip on the Pan or in the area of Basalt check them out, helpful, lots of gear, and full service shop. Good dudes.
Bought Hudson a little Cliff Jr. Bug Barn, can't wait to get home to give him his surprise. Lee-ball and Lucky are on the prowl for the lucky fin. My old-arse is in bed before they fire up and really get their engines turning.

Will post more when I get back. Going to hit the pan for one more run in the morning. Stay-tuned for more later. Beers for now.

In the airport on my way to Denver.

2010-02-05T14:04:00.000-08:00

Took some shots the other night for a water company in Canada. Reminded me of how lucky we are to live in Arizona where it's warm in Feb.

Been getting slammed with email, please forgive me if I don't respond to it all. Not enough man power to get back to everyone. I appreciate all the warm responses, even some of the not so warm ones too. Good feedback on what we can do better. It's funny the folks who are nice, leave their name.

So far I'm making a list of the best ones:

"I hate you trust-afarians who don't have a real job and can fish all the time, get a job and off your dad's tit."

"You need to spell better than a sixth-grader blah-blah-blah-blah."

"You aren't a real photographer, just a dude with an expensive camera."

"If you knew how to use your gear, you wouldn't use a fish eye."

None of which came with names attached. I'm not going to include the ones targeting Hudson, because to be honest it's just sad. There are a handful of guys out there that are a blip on the radar of things. The energy they spend chasing me is silly. A got a couple phone calls from guys, please don't worry, all the BS is just noise. I appreciate your concern sincerely, but that is all it is: noise from folks who should be fishing, but aren't.

By count of IP addresses posting on various sites, there are a total of five "ANGRY Folks" out there, creating all the stir. Think about that in terms of time spent posting. So sad. A couple of them have kids, they choose to chase me instead of spend time with their little ones or go fish. Granted that a couple of those IP addresses are teachers, it is sad they would go after anyone let Hudson.

I never claimed to be some great photographer or writer. A lot of what they say is right. Spelling, grammar all that, is pretty poor. My pictures can definitely get better. Long ways to go on both. In truth I don't mind sharing with you all the journey. It's honest and part of why I think the whole thing relates to folks living it. Not everyone is a professional photographer, or writer, but if your reading this you are most likely an angler. So like you I have flaws too, but without question love to fish.

Hopefully this connects with some of you who called, emailed etc. I sincerely don't want you to get caught up with having to defend me to the few who are ANGRY. Let their anger eat them, I'm going fishing. You should too.

200,000 Hits and still going!

2010-02-04T18:50:00.000-08:00

Okay not sure I ever expected this, but as of 5am this morning we had 201,000 hits to the magazine-issue one. Thank you. Granted my mother was 199k, but for the 1000 or so others - we all sincerely appreciate it. I'm getting asked a lot about some of the folks who were in the magazine. I will follow up later this month with a little profile on each of the players and what they do. Lot's of good people who could use your support in the fishing industry. Our friend Bob maybe the most talented outdoor sporting artist out there doing it right now. You can see is work everywhere. He's gifted, humble, and a friend. Give his website a look at Whitefish Studios. For a taste just open Fly Rod and Reel, his paintings have been gracing the last page for a long time now and illustrate the most talented fly fishing writer ever to live on a monthly basis.

Bob's link can be found on the right column in the link section. He deserves the support.

Outside that, lot's of feedback to fix fonts in issue two. Will do. We also got asked to add some of the photo settings to the pages that were used to capture the images. There were a couple of spelling errors, and grammer challenges as well. For those of you who pointed them out thank you, we appreciate the free editing.

Another worthy mention was Musky Country Outfitters, run by my buddy Brad. He makes his life as a guide for Musky on the Fly. If you get a chance drop him a note, or check out his site.

He's good people and is fishy as hell.

I'm off to fish the Pan and the Blue for a few days, a long deserved break from real life. I already miss my kids, even though I leave tomorrow.

Metting SID crew Church & Lucky for a little streamer throwing action. I hope to find me again for a bit, before coming back to the six by six cubed existence called Corporate America. I'm lucky to have a good team who will cover for me a few days while the boss is gone. I will think of them while I'm out, but wish I didn't.

My ritual before I leave every trip is to breath Hudson's hair deep. I think each time, "smell it for the first time" incase it's the last. Maybe a father shouldn't think such things, but it's hard not to. He is everything good in me.

110,000 Hits 24 hours

2010-02-02T06:44:00.000-08:00

So, I hope this means folks are liking what is there. I checked this morning and there were over 90k hits yesterday, so in total we have had 110,000 hits to the site looking at the mag. Lot's of things to do better next time I have a whole laundry list of improvements that need to be made. We found a couple spelling errors, despite five sets of eyes other than mine, as well as a template loaded with the wrong font sets on three articles. Outside of that the overall feedback has been really positive. I'm sorry if I haven't answered all your emails yet, my personal inbox blew-up to over 1000 emails yesterday, many of them from folks in other countries.

So I have a couple questions for folks in order to help shape issue two:

1. Does the format work okay for people? We're limited on the software's functionality, but there is some room for modification.

2. Is there anything from a content perspective that wasn't their they would like to see?

Issue Two is already underway. We hope to make it much cleaner than our first issue, but it's a learning process so I wouldn't expect all the bugs to be out by round two.

I'm off to CO this weekend for some long over due time on the water. I will check back in next week and see what folks thought for feedback on the questions.

Thanks,

Volume One Issue One: Sleeping In the Dirt

2010-01-31T11:08:00.001-08:00

SEE FULL SIZED PUBLICATION HERE

Mearns Quail and Grandma

2010-01-20T17:41:00.001-08:00

If it doesn't bite, sting, or prick it isn't here. A handful of miles north of the Mexican Border our crew of merry Mearns-men zig through Catsclaw and zag around loose stones. Dogs work ahead, some far some near. Their collars beeping intermittently as they scour hard earth for the scent of what keeps our climb up hill. This particular hunt was the worst and the best of timing.

My office phone rang. The screen flashed an east coast area code. It wasn't any one of a hundred people who could make my workday worse in ten words or less. With receiver against my ear I spoke, "Hello?"

"Hey buddy, wanted to connect with you before I made it down to AZ." the voice at the other end was Steve's.

"Well how's it going?" I replied, relieved it was non-work related. Steve was on his way down for a quail hunt, and not just any quail, but "Mearns".

For those of you who don't know Mearns quail are the most coveted of all upland game, and only accessible in the southern reaches of my state, Arizona. What else is little known about this bird is they live in extremely formidable places to hunt them. Climbing in and out of canyons, chase spanning across unforgiving and inhospitable terrain is par for the course. Steve was planning to come down to hunt with a few friends and he had asked me to tag along. The beauty about my friend Steve is he is the guy who knows how to say everything right. In any situation Steve can come out being best buds with pretty much anyone in the conversation. The best part about Steve is not only can he command an audience with his social acumen, what he says is truthful, "He means it".

Personally, the first half of that equation is where I have troubles, I don't seem to have the being able to, "say it right" part down very well. I try, but it pretty much always comes out poorly and I have to rely on folks who know me well enough to see through my abuse of the language to get the message and intent behind the lack of ability. So I have the utmost respect for folks like Steve who have mastered both worlds, something that no matter how hard I try alludes me.

We talked through the details of our trip and hung up. Five seconds later, the phone rang again, without checking I picked up figuring it was Steve calling back with a missed detail. Answering, "What did you forget?" I was greeted by a different voice.

"Your grandmother passed at 2pm." My father said as I looked at my watch. It was 2:43 PM.

I'm not sure why I volunteered to speak at the funeral, but I felt it was something I owed her. If anything, the spotlight is something I shy away from. The notion of many people with their attention focused on me is frightening at best. Checking flight times, It occurred to me that getting lost for a few days in the foothills of the Dragoon mountains of southern AZ, may be an opportunity for me to search for the right words. Not until I stood in front of a standing room only audience did I find what must be said. It is where this woman, I loved dearly, ended that our story begins.

The smell of Juniper and Scrub Oak is distinctly clean. My nostrils feel sharp and come with harsh-rapid breaths. The chase is life, and here we're living through hunting Mearns. A thorn from a barrel cactus stings my left thigh as I brush against it.

Nothing in this part of the world is forgiving, making success of this hunt taste so much sweeter than others. The beep of a dog's collar steady and shrill is followed by the call of , "ON POINT." Our chase uphill begins again. Scaling loose rock and gravel, sidestepping thorny plants, and skipping over deadfall my heart starts to pound hard from my chest and ends in my ears. Three distinct, "BANG, BANG, BANGs", and I puff my way onto the scene ten seconds too late. My friend a bird in hand and searching for the others is all smiles.

This scenario was repeated a half a dozen times before we found our way back to the trucks. The entire way down the mountain we had climbed searching out our quarry I had searched for something to say worth saying on behalf of my grandmother. Still at a loss, I hugged my friends goodbye and wished them true aim as I left for birds to come. A glance in the rearview as the Rover pulled away, the guys we're spreading mustard over turkey and ham.

A mile into the dirt road out, I came across a family of Mexican immigrants sneaking across the border. Uncles, aunts, mothers, fathers, children and grandparents were in group carrying mostly empty gallon jugs of water and bags of food as they made their way to a new life in the United States. I slowed down as they scurried across the road. I'm sure terrified of being spotted. I saw a grandfather holding the hand of a child my son's age, no more than four years old. I passed by the moment like a car wreck on the freeway, slowing down to stare but forgetting five minutes later that it ever happened. It wasn't until I stood in front of the audience at my grandmother's funeral that the moment I had shared with those seeking refuge in our country connected with me. Here is what I said:

"Please forgive me, I'm not very eloquent and I sincerely try and slip through the cracks when it comes to the spotlight, so I apologize in advance for my lack of polish. Please listen to my words and don't judge the package. Yesterday I was hunting a few miles north of the Mexican border and came across an entire family smuggling into the US. I looked over the people and my eyes landed on a grandfather and grandson holding hands, and now I know what I'm supposed to share with all you here today. A grandson's experience.

When I was young I would sleep over at my grandmother's house, she would fuel me up on Captan Crunch and Oreo cookies. Sugar was not an issue for her. We would play UNO until the late hours of the night and I would cheat. After a while of me stacking the deck, grandma caught on and started doing it for me, assuming the burden of loading all the draw-fours into my hand.

When I got older, I worked a few miles from her assisted living facility and she would call me, "Can you bring over some of those wine-coolers for me and the gals?" So as a devoted grandson I would smuggle my 90 year old grandmother Bartles and James. She would pour herself and her friends (who would show up out of nowhere) a dixie cup full of peach flavored cooler and start a mean game of penny-poker.

My challenge to you today is to leave here and for the next few hours remember the times you shared with my grandmother that made you laugh and smile, because in times when all you want to do is cry, there is little else you can hold onto that will carry you through." I walked away from the pulpit cursing tears away under my breath.

My grandmother saw me for the message and not the package. I think we have few moments in life that you can take what is, "real" and apply to an audience where it matters. So in that vein, seek to understand me, others, and yourself for the message. Don't get lost in what is, "the package". Marie Otto had 98 years on this planet, and if you ask me, "it wasn't enough." I slipped a Draw-four into her casket, but did not share that with the people listening at the funeral. That is one for her and me.

Back in Action

2010-01-18T15:22:00.001-08:00

So first off, sincerely sorry for not being online here. Building your own rag is more work then I ever thought. Looks like we're going to make 1.31 release date. We have a couple folks who have text to turn in yet with their photo essays, but 95% is complete.

Let's do a brief recap of the last 45 days: Stuck in photo-shop-hell attempting to build pages, layouts and font sets.
Here is the Cover of Issue 1

What is included: Lee's Ferry by Corey K, Sight fishing Tarpon by Brett Colvin, Some Fish Parts from across the pond, by AV, Chrome by Steve R, Giant Bull Trout, Rooster Fish, and more.... much much more.... If you live it, you will get it. That's all I'm saying.

Our Motto is, "No Advertisement, No Sponsors, No Limits... No shit."

Outside that just got back from a Mearns hunt with the big O. Will post follow up on that. So a hundred plus stickers went out: would love to see shots of anyone who has got them and put them into use somewhere.

Hope all is well.

AO

What is Sleeping In The Dirt?

2009-11-18T18:14:00.000-08:00

So a friend of mine recently asked me a question, "What exactly is Sleeping in the Dirt?"

Well Ken I never planned for anything to happen with this. I really wanted a place to share photos with families and friends of days on the water, trips, Hudson, and in general: all things fishy.

Eleven months later it's turned into a tribute to people who share a common lifestyle. Looking back over the course of 2009 I'm humbled by the water covered, friends who shared it with me, and fished fooled.

Sleeping in the Dirt is you. Sleeping in the Dirt, is every one of us who wishes they could be on the water and not stuck in a 4x6 grey cubed cell. Sleeping in the Dirt is a twelve hour hike down a canyon to catch fifteen inch trout. Sleeping in the Dirt is knowing that it's not only about the catching, the real win is the journey. Sleeping in the Dirt is taking time to teach your children that spending time with them is the best part of you. Sleeping in the Dirt is guides, painters, bloggers, photogers, film tour stars, industry movers, and beginners. Sleeping in the Dirt is being able to understand RA's ramblings on "Living It". Sleeping in the dirt is having building a mix-tape to drive-to when you're on your way to a fish. Sleeping in the Dirt is tying #2 salmon flies out of materials you can find at truck stop, while driving 75MPH on your way to the Madison. Sleeping in the Dirt is waking up to smoke and fire when your at the bottom of a canyon sixty miles from pavement. Sleeping in the dirt is catching an Apache trout and a Tarpon...in the same day. Sleeping in the Dirt is beer in your Cheerios. ... It is a 100 days on the water (plus) every year. ... It is knowing you will die on the water. It is hoping you will. .. It is not being able to walk away from the rise. ... It is stopping by the local pond or canal every day on your way to work just so you can cast at carp for five minutes. ...It's a 1000 hits per day, dozens of articles, more photos then you can remember, and an honest desire to befriend a fellow angler. It is every day dream you have while in the office, wishing that you were ankle deep in a drift. It is the very best of me, Hudson. A child's pure joy to fish. If you read this site, it is you.

I never intended it to be any of this. Now in January it will be a magazine: Year One, Volume One: Sleeping In the Dirt.

T-Shirts Are In

2009-11-17T18:45:00.000-08:00

Check Them Out. Stickers due here by this weekend. Let me know what you think.

A little Sneak Peak from the Dirt: Layout Board for Issue 1

2009-11-15T08:49:00.001-08:00

Due out in January: Issue 1 from Year 1 of Sleeping in the Dirt. It's shaping up nicely.

Here is a little Boo for You.

2009-11-14T17:02:00.000-08:00

Check out my friend's Boo site. He's a small rod builder, doing it small on purpose. His motto is, "Handcrafted Fly Rods For The Discriminating Angler."

What sold me that this was the real deal is his intro line expalining his philosophy, "I only build fly rods becuase that is what I know."

The Dirt says, "HELLYES!" Go Zach.

Couple Other Articles that Southwest FF has Run this Year for the dirt

2009-11-07T05:49:00.003-08:00

Phoenix fishing and the Walk In section of Lee's Ferry. Good stuff.

2009-11-07T05:49:00.001-08:00

Southwest Fly Fishing: Giving some love to the Dirt

2009-11-04T17:34:00.000-08:00

So I got asked by a couple folks last night about things in SWFF. I guess you could say John and Steve have taken care of me. I didn't realize it, but over the last three years they've been kind enough to run over twenty articles for me. If you guys get a chance, I really think Matchthehatch.com SW Fly Fishing, NW, and NE are a quality product. Not just because they run my stuff, but the method in which they approach what they run compared to the other magazines out there. I'll post a couple articles from this year they ran with, my stuff brings down the curve for sure, but you will get an idea. Perfect mag for folks looking to travel and want to know what's going on with respect to fins in that area. They get the blame for hot spotting a lot, but in their defense it's a travel magazine: focusing on destination fishing in by region. It is a good roadmap for folks like me who work and have to travel a lot due to their jobs. I find myself saving issues from NW and SW, going back to them years later to find spots to fish when my job takes me out of town. Give them a shot. I think if you fish, you won't be let down by what's inside their covers.

Check out my Friend's Blog

2009-11-03T21:17:00.000-08:00

He's a guide, he's cool, enough said.

http://glassywaters.blogspot.com/

check it out.

ao

the Catch Giving the Dirt's Number one Angler, Hudson, Some Love

2009-11-01T14:32:00.000-08:00

Check it out if you get a chance. You may see a few familiar faces from the dirt crew floating around the pages of issue # 8.

Good stuff all around.

A little love from Midcurrent

2009-10-22T19:10:00.001-07:00

http://www.midcurrent.com/flyfishingimages/photographers.aspx

Thanks Tim. I sincerely appreicate the opportunity. If you guys haven't been to Midcurrent before I would check it out.

Spent the weekend with K2

2009-10-20T18:29:00.000-07:00

My new friend Kalvin came into town from the east coast. K2 (Kalvin) serves our country in the Air National Gaurd. We did a quick up to the White Mountains and back in search of some of AZ's gold: Apache Trout.

Kalvin ended up with a nice little Apache, and a couple very large Rainbows. We had a few pokes at some enormous browns in a high country stream, but couldn't convert scratches to connects.

All in all we had a great time. Thanks for keeping us safe my friend. I'll post a couple more shots here tonight after I get a hold of all the post editing.

A

Apache Weekend

2009-10-15T20:23:00.000-07:00

So, friend coming into town, H coming to fish, Big Apaches on Ice. that is what is going on this weekend.

Going to buy a new car.... can't seem to get my hands around giving up the ghost. Sounds silly, but I get really attached to my fishing trucks....

More Muskie!

2009-10-09T09:41:00.001-07:00

Just a couple shots from the trip. More to come laters. Ao

Muskie Update

2009-10-05T13:29:00.001-07:00

Round Dos: Muskie 09

Two days Muskie, one day Lake Run Browns and Chrome: time to go home.

I ran hard for three days and three nights. We chased my favorite freshwater apex predator in the rain and sleet all over Northwestern-Wisco. My usual Dirt Tribe from back home was geared up and ready to throw down. Brining along one additional Non-Wisconsota brother along, Paulito Escobar. Paul ended up with big fish of the trip too, so he was a good add.

Day one was where all the damage was done and the front of the boat was the ticket. All eats, blow-ups, and fish connected where from the lead seat. Nothing happening out of the back all day. After eight shots and one really nice fish landed, I got an hour in the front seat resulting in one missed opportunity and a small Muskie.

Day two was all Lucky, with a nice 41-43” class fish landed in the Lee-Ball’s rig. A new player to the dirt, but old brethren of the Bardly jumped into the mix this trip: BearCat. BearCat was a good add. Funny as shit. Old Bardly rowed my slacker-arse around for two days keeping us in good natured stories and chuckles for the most part. I was pushing hard for a cover shot for a little magazine called Fly Fisherman. I’ve submitted a few from this adventure to Ross, think good thoughts for me folks. It’s an understatement for me to tell you all, how important personally it would be for me to get the cover of one of the biggest mags out there. (Cross your ten weights)

So it’s done for this trip, headed home tomorrow. Haven’t slept much in the last two weeks, hoping to get a little rest tonight. I will most likely be back in a couple weeks for one last crack at my favorite fish. Looking to update my tattoo collection with a nice toothy-M pic. Holding out until I bust my 50” mark fish for that. The pain is the reward on both accounts.

Looks like I will be hitting the Trinity here in Nov too. So folks can look for more Muskie, Chrome, and maybe a Taneycomo Brown trip thrown in for kicks here in the next month or so.

Check out Mike's Art

2009-10-02T20:30:00.000-07:00

A friend of mine, Make Savlin, does some seriously fishy art. Check out his latests Glimpse of a Cuttie and his site. He's got some wonderful work out there.

Fly Rod & Reel Giving the Dirt Some Love

2009-10-01T05:31:00.000-07:00

Check out the state of Arizona's state fish, a Dirt regular: The Apache Trout.

TU's Trout Mag; Sleeping in the Dirt's First Cover

2009-09-29T22:14:00.000-07:00

Check it out if you get time. My buddy Nick (Tony's Bro) who has graced the pages of S.I.D here a bunch of times got the cover from our Pyramid Trip this spring.

http://online.qmags.com/TU0909S/Default.aspx

McCloud From the Clan McCloud

2009-09-29T19:40:00.000-07:00

So a friend sent me a note on Thursday, asking what I was doing Friday. I booked a flight before I responded. Replying to my buddy via email, "Chris, fishing with you."

The plan was to hit the Pit River north of San Fran. Things didn't all fall out according to plan, but as usual, that was just fine by me. I hadn't fished with Chris before, but by the end of the trip I felt like we had been friends for years.
I won't put too much detail out other than to say a few iside jokes between friend. I think there is an article in the making here and don't want to spoil all the good parts.

1. All things lead back to Bob.
2. Emailing Justin to get advice, leads you back to the guy standing in front of you at the FLY SHOP in Redding. Literaly.
3. I think I may have again crossed paths with Brian O not even knowing I did. It's like the fith time this year.
4. There can be only one.

5. "Them are Redbands, I don't care who you are."

6. The adventure is where you take it. The making will happen for you.
7. For Chris: My air matress had many holes in it, but the brand new jet boil broke after the first cook.

I'm sure I could find more to blabber on about, but it's pretty much senseless nonesense. Thanks Chris. I sincerley hope we have many more adenvnutres in our future.

On a side note: Back home tomorrow night. On the Muskie Trail again.

PS - You guys want to see some SID somewhere else? Check out Trout Mag this month, got a little love from TU. Outside that pretty much nobody wants my stuff. So I will continue to collect it for mass release in our own mag coming out Jan 1.

SLEEPING IN THE DIRT: YEAR ONE

Fifty pages of you guessed it: Sleeping in the dirt. Staring many of you.

Update: Been out for a bit.

2009-09-28T21:08:00.003-07:00

Sorry been out for a bit. Here is the deal: San Juan River with Tara, McCloud River with Christoff, and a special little surpise announcement for later.

One San Juan River. Tara with nice bow.

Praying in Waders

Another nice bow.

And another nice bow, my wife's biggest to date.

Back Home

2009-09-14T19:51:00.001-07:00

Spent five days chasing Muskie. A couple connects, many, many follows, but no converts. It was rough.

The bonus to the trip was got to see my crew back home. An added bonus to fishing with friends was the smallmouth activity. You have to love the smallmouth attitude. A eighteen inch fish eating an eleven to a twelve inch fly.

Here are some shots of the gang and shots from back home.

Back to our Roots

2009-08-24T16:59:00.000-07:00

So this weekend's carp adventure wasn't as bountiful as we had hoped. When we got home, H wasn't fully satisfied. Later on that night he brought out his Fly-O and stuffed Bass. It was time for some payback.

Since a year and half, we have been putting the hurt on stuffed fish around the house. Stalking them down hallways, in bedrooms, and hidden away in closets it has been a favorite pass time of Hudson's and mine.

Game goes like this: I hide fish, then we sneak around together looking for the toys poking their noses, tails, and other parts out from hiding. When a target is spotted we take a knee and watch. Hudson and I usually talk about where the fish is positioned, how you would approach said fish, amongst other fishy-strategy.

In the end we always do the same dance: Hudson casts, hooks, and pretend-battles the fish. Followed by a photo, and release finish to best the biggest hero-shot holders in the business.

The entire experience allows us room to practice and talk about things that happen on the water; in a relatively uneventful living room-like environment. For example our last adventure pictured throughout this post we discussed praying to the gods. I told Hudson when he hooked up and a fish jumped he needed to pray with his rod and lay it down close to the water, but still hold onto it. Until the fish landed back in the water and then it was game-on all over again.

It usually takes a few renditions of our game for it to sink in, but eventually he nails it. Look at our previous posts for proof. How many other three year olds do you know out there, Sleeping In the Dirt?

Until next time, a dad in love with his son.

Coloring books, the itch, and my Believer

2009-08-23T14:53:00.000-07:00

I have been spending time with H these last couple weeks, weekends too. My wife printed off the Fishy-Kids coloring book and it has given us a few nights of trying to stay in the lines. Hudson started his first page by coloring with sidewalk chalk.

It didn’t take Addison long to crawl over and show interest too. Mom propped her up, and guided small hands holding crayons over a Bob White.

After a couple nights of art activity in the Otto house, the itch came back. Two weeks of family time, fishing limited to coloring at nights. I had promised Tara that I would take some time off. Canceling two trips I had sincerely been dreaming about all year. With a certain amount of house-arrest in effect, I wondered where I could go with Hudson close. We’ve done Bass. There really isn’t much for pan fish around. A couple stocked ponds with stunted trout. We needed something new, something Hudson hadn’t done. Scratching my balding head, I pondered how will I get Hudson into a Carp?

It’s not that he doesn’t have some of the skill sets necessary to catch a carp. The notion stuck me, “It maybe too early to introduce him to such a finicky fish.” “Will trying to catch a carp damage his love for fishing now?” I worried. Like many other species, carp are truly a Love them or Leave them, type of fin. “Could he handle the refusal?” Every ounce of me wanted to say, “Yes”.
At three he’s advanced, but by no means are Carp easy on the fly. Reasoning, his height would work to his advantage. On the other hand, he’s never lead a fish before. If you find fish slurping, a seed fly has worked really well for me and he can throw a dry. But, he hasn’t needed to gauge depth and distance in order to intersect the path of a feeding fish. Weighing my options, corn crossed my mind, but I had never had much luck myself with corn. I have tied corn flies, and even used frozen corn in attempts of making a chum ball to lure fish in. Neither approach has really worked for me. Catching them up top was an option.
Without a better plan I figured I would go find carp feeding close to shore and in the film. Put Hudson in a good shady ambush spot and see what happens. It really didn’t go as planned.

We showed up two days in a row to a complex of ponds I had fished over the years. Between joggers, and dog walkers, this place was packed. We saw one other guy fishing with a fly rod. The guest angler wasn’t very friendly and left after inspecting my gear lying down in the grass. I guess if I saw a three year old roll up and start fishing for Carp, I may leave too. Who wants to be shown up by a half pint?

Didn’t go down that way in the end, no fish were landed. Hudson had one honest to goodness look, but no takers. The biggest struggle for him was the lead. His casts were too close to the fish. Nine times out of ten he would throw a cast and fish would scatter.

Maybe another year or two from now will be better for him. He has the distance, just not the ability to be accurate and understand where to throw the fly to intercept the fish as they pod up and move through a flat. The one real look he got was great through. Hudson threw into the middle of a pod of seven fish. The first two fish spooked, but the remaining fish didn’t seem to take much notice to the leading carp taking off. As the pod moved up to where his fly was sitting on the muck floor, Hudson looked up at me. In a hushed voice, “Dad they’re going to eat it”
He’s a believer. You have to be a believer. “The fish will eat every time.”

Gilas, Fire, and Broken Nipples

2009-08-19T07:02:00.000-07:00

So Dusty came in from Texas. We got blanked on Apache, caught a handful of tiny Gila, my truck broke down, and we almost got burned up by fire.

This weekend was rough. I have two cards left to go through. Here are some shots and story from my first pass after being chased out of the Gila Wilderness.

The Gila Wilderness Area is 3million acres. Black Canyon Creek has native strain Gila trout, one of the only few handfuls of native populations left. The way down to the creek is 4x4 only trail 47 miles off pavement. We arrived late Friday night in time to camp and throw a few casts. A poor showing for our first couple hours on the creek we caught a total of fifteen inches of Gila trout, divided over three fish.

The first morning we wake up to smoke and find out that night a fire had started a couple ridges over cutting our trip short. Exactly one mile into our trip out of the canyon, the nipple on the coolant repository snaps in my Land Rover. The system is pressurized and forces the engine to overheat immediately. Spewing coolant everywhere we stop one mile up the trail with fire behind us.

Duct tape, a pen, and Hard as nails we rig together a make-shift nipple that allows us to hold pressure for two mile stents. Every two miles we need to stop and fill the repository with more water to replace what is seeping out of our imperfect contraption. When we run out of water we take turns peeing into our radiator. Ten hours later we have managed to limp out of the wilderness area and onto a paved road inside Gila National Park.
A Forestry service truck on their way to check the fire, see’s us and stops.

I photographed our entire survival and process. Unfortunately, one of the last strains of Gilas may not be so lucky if the fire dumps silt into the creek. It is entirely possible that my friend Dusty and I are the last two people who will ever fish native Gilas from Black Canyon Creek. That thought saddens me deeply.

The upside is, I got to burry my head in my son’s hair and breathe deeply one more time.

I will post more tonight on our weekend in the dirt, with pictures to follow.

Gilas, Apaches and More.

2009-08-14T06:57:00.000-07:00

Dusty is about to fly in to AZ from TX for a couple days of rare fish. We're headed over the border into the Gila Wilderness area. Hopefully we have some Karma built up and the Gila trout of the area will find our flies.

Next we will travel from Gila to Apache country. Attempting to knock off the second of North America's top ten rare fish of the trip. Heading west into Arizona's White Mountains.

I had to cancel my AK trip with Bob and Golden's trip with Corey. Hopefully this little weekend excursion will help get my mind of what could have been. I had been looking forward to the two trips mentioned all year. Life got in the way this time, unfortunately.

I will try and finish up the Bull Trout trip report with day three upon return.

Day two: Running with the Bulls

2009-08-06T19:11:00.000-07:00

I had worked all night the day before. Got on a plane the following night, flew in and drove straight through. We got close to three hours of sleep and we started our first full day. The adrenaline of that day kept me moving. Now after a nights rest I was ready to go, Day two here we come.

Running with the Bulls

2009-08-04T19:20:00.001-07:00

I will let the low resolution images do the talking while your eyes do the walking. In fifteen years of chasing fins with the long rod, I have yet to have better fishing. We flew in from all over, and then drove all night until all roads ended. Our journey birthed ten hours of sleep, three days of nonstop backcountry angling, and literally hundreds of pounds of giant Bull Trout caught on the fly. The heavens opened and St. Andrew reached down showering us with angler’s luck. The ultimate barometer of good living, every ounce of fish karma was cashed in. Sixty gigs of RAW files left to process, here is the first swipe of my last trip out in the back country while sleeping in the dirt.

Day One: Running With the Bulls

Day two to follow: Much, much More to come!

Fishy Kids

2009-08-03T19:41:00.000-07:00

A couple of my friends Cameron of TheFiberGlassManifesto and Kevin of Red Dirt Studios have put together one of the coolest kid-friendly fishing activities of all time. A Fishy-Kid Coloring book, with drawings from Fly fishing's most famous artists. The book can be downloaded via the site. The colorings from the kids can be submitted for prizes from all the big name companies who have all lined up to sponsor coloring book event. Hudson will be entering that is for sure!

Check it out here: http://fishykids.red-dirt.org/

In Sky Harbor

2009-07-30T19:08:00.001-07:00

OMW to ID to run with da-BULLZ! Be back in a few days, hopefully with a whole load of Bull-Porn to drop on you.

See you in a couple hours Paulito.

Until next week - L8TRS

AO

The Fly Fish Journal: Accepting Subscriptions

2009-07-29T19:28:00.000-07:00

You guys have to check this out. Going to be a coffee table like journal. The contributors for the first issue are sick including: Tom Bie, Brian O'Keefe, and Adam Barker, amongst many others.

So I'm a fan of all three of these guys. They're a class act all the way around. I could only wish my stuff would be good enough one day to grace these pages. Having had a bit of a sneak peak at a couple of the contributors stuff going into the first issue I can summarize the first issue as such: Think Tom's Drake Mag, but much larger and in the form of a coffee table-like-book.

http://www.theflyfishjournal.com/

I guarantee you the Drake, GSJ, and this will be my three subscriptions in 2010.

H-Monkey's first Off Map Backpack Trip

2009-07-26T11:25:00.000-07:00

Since Hudson was six months of age, we've made one trip per month, just the two of us. Historically, our trips have been limited to day-runs. Locations we could make it to early enough to beat the crowds and home in time to tuck little ones into bed that night. We’ve done a few overnight trips, but opted to stay in public campgrounds close to the attraction and nothing too far away from amenities or emergency facilities. Backcountry trips with a little one requires a bit more planning than traditional -you and your buddies- going out to catch a couple troots. The extra effort is spent packing backup cloths, Dora The Explorer Band Aides, fruit snacks, Juice boxes(instead of beer), and favorite story time books. My minimalist mentality has pushed even further, in attempts to find ways to make my gear lighter and less to make room for the necessities listed in the previous sentence. Despite the sacrifices of personal comfort to ensure Hudson has what he needs, I couldn’t be happier to have him along.

This weekend was Hudson’s first off-map experience. Our plan was to head just north of the Hell’s Gate Wilderness made famous by one of Arizona’s most famous adventurists, Zane Grey. We would be skirting the area known as Hell’s Gate, but close enough to feel the hum of famous steps before us. The specific thread of life Hudson and I were headed to was ripe with overgrowth and well concealed to even the most seasoned of Southwestern Smallstream’ers. Remote, pristine, and packed with unbridled little brown trout, it was a perfect spot for a father and son weekend wilderness adventure.

Hudson was up and packed before the sun. His Diego backpack busting at the seams with fruit-cups, spoons, a plate, and at the very bottom of his bag a hair drier- all of his own packing. Mommy secretly replaced the contents of his backpack with his blanky and story time book before placing his gear into the car. Two hours later, Hudson was snoring in his car seat. We crested the town of Payson and the official entry point to the Mogollon Rim. The temperature had dropped from a scorching 95 degrees to a blissful 82 degrees, breezy and inviting. Pulling into the last grocery store before the final leg of our drive, I parked the car and went around to Hudson’s door. Unbuckling his seat, picking him up, and laying his head on my shoulder didn’t stir him at all. He awoke somewhere between the dairy section and isle of beer.
“It’s cold dad.” His little body shook in my arms, trying to shudder away the cold.

“Hey buddy, nice to see you back joining the living.” I kissed his head and got a nose full of Johnson and Johnson’s. “You want to walk buddy?” He was slipping down my body not waiting to reply.

“I want to hold your hand.” H reached up and cupped his whole hand inside my first three fingers.

Two isles later we had butter, a potato, an onion, carrots and tinfoil, everything we needed to make a little stream side dinner. It would be Hudson’s first taste of fish he caught himself. Also his first taste of taking life. Big items were going to be on the menu for this trip. On our way to the register isle I grabbed a 32 oz Silver bullet, figured there was room enough in my pack to squeeze one in.

…..

I turned the car left onto a forest road, leaving paved highway behind. Hudson was on his eleveteenth rendition of Row-Row Your Boat, when I pulled over and stopped the car. Each and every time Hudson came to the word “Boat”, he would replace it with “Butt”. Ironic how funny it was every time for a guy of three. Equally amusing is how funny it was for one of thirty-three.

“We’re here buddy.” I jammed everything we needed into a 5800 cubic inch bag helped Hudson with his backpack and we marched off into the wilderness down a sand-rock strewn trail head.

Our trip would take us three miles in total off the trail head from where we parked. Hiking with Hudson has taught me that every ten minutes a break is needed and once per half an hour snack time. The frequent pit stops are fine with dad, taking the load off my back is welcome, only hard part is putting it back on after we’ve stopped. Hudson picked up a stick and we were now knights. Dragons around every corner, Hudson couldn’t be weighted down with his backpack anymore and it was handed off to me. Fully expected, I was thankful for mom’s repacking of his bag, it was much lighter then it could have been. Hudson ran ahead delivering a wide open can of whoop-ass on a fallen tree stump now serving as the King of all dragons.

A short while later we had reached the halfway mark, our campsite. A shady spot on the far side the bank carpeted with soft soil and pine needles we made camp. While dad sought after the administrative side of things, tent, fire, food etc. Hudson set up shop. No time to waste, my little guy is all about fishing. His first action was to pick out bugs. I kid you not, I had to pull him out of the stream from turning over rocks. The kid was looking for bugs. Even though he ended up choosing an Elk Hair Caddis, and was looking subsurface, he has the right idea. I figured if you have to explain to you three year old the water isn’t safe to go in without dad because he’s trying to figure out what to tie on to his line.. well let’s leave it at: I had to push back some tears. After retrieving H from the water he went to the bug box.

Hudson was chomping at the bit to get on the water so I skipped a couple things like collecting wood etc: We headed to the stream. At three feet tall stealth comes without trying. H walked up to the stream made three casts, hung up on the first two, dad came to rescue. The third, well his hook found dinner. Small streams can be tough for veteran anglers, so in efforts to help minimalist tangles and retying of tippet, I tie a loop around the reel with the line. This stops the fly line from going out more than four feet past the last guide, limiting Hudson’s reach of cast to four feet of fly line and about seven feet of leader to fly. It doesn’t stop all issues, but helps keep things moving along. Hudson learned to cast on a Fly-O so his normal cast is a pickup and lay down, no hauling or shooting line involved. We play a game to help him keep his patience and not pick up his fly and recast immediately. It’s not much, but I think it helps. I told Hudson we need to find the Fishy’s Home with the Fishy-Food. So when he casts his fly his goal is to let it float past rocks and the bubbly water where fish live. I know not much, but it allows him to focus enough attention on the fly and getting it into the right spots without ripping it off the surface before a fish can grab it.

More to come later: Hudson's first fish dinner (he caught himself) and lessons learned from a three year old.

The Baja

2009-07-21T17:09:00.000-07:00

East Cape, buddy Tony, Min-Chee-Lata's, and miles of beach to run made for a near perfect four days in Roostertown.

One-hundred-degree plus days combined with ninety-percent humidity made for sticky fishing. This new cocktail made with lime juice, ice, beer, and a salted rim called a Min-Chee-Lata held us through. Thanks for the new drink of choice Tony, having one right now. Too tired to sleep, how ironic is that? Combs have kept me awake since I got home. It's all I can think of, the Rooster is haunting me.

Will post more later, I need to pack the camping gear, taking the little man out this weekend for a little dad/son time.

Recap of the Last Week

2009-07-20T17:00:00.000-07:00

Well folks the last seven or so days have flown by. We started off by flying into Salt Lake City to meet a fishing companion. We then proceeded to drive to Driggs Idaho and fish below the Tetons. Dropping ourselves and boats over a thousand foot canyon to fish the Teton river along with fishing the South Fork of the Snake.

Fished, photoged, and drank with less then ten hours of rack time for four days. Made a beeline back to SLC to catch a flight home for twenty-four hours then headed off to East Cape in chase of the fish that now haunts my dreams-the Rooster.

The following is an attempt to wrap the two stories into one long photo essay illustrating what are now memories. Memories I will not soon forget; one of the best runs this year. From Arizona to Idaho, then Mexico and back another chapter closed.

The Teton River's Canyon section is one serious remote and beautiful spot. The entire river is threatened currently by a movement to dam up the river creating a reserve water system for the immediate Jackson Area. If that happens all of what you will see in these photos will be gone. TU along with WorldCast anglers is leading the charge against the damming of the river, however it is another battle, of many, over water in the Southwest.

After belaying down to the bottom we fished cutthroats and ran rapids until it was too dark to see. Both Snake River and Yellowstone Cutts were caught on big bushy dries all day long. It was, in a word, unbelievably-good.

The next day we fished Drakes & Streamers on the lower sections of Teton River. The appearance of the water was more of a spring creek then the cliffed in big water rapids fished the day earlier. Rainbows, brook, and cuttthroat were caught under cloud cover this day providing excellent fishing and scenery for a lazy row through grassy fields.

I rowed with Jim Lampross, my new friend from WorldCast while Doug went with Steve and Mike. Trigger, Mike's dog, hopped a ride with us as well. I have to pause for a moment here and provide a public service announcement for WorldCast. It's fair to say I find myself on the water more than most. Not trying to sound all big headed or snobbish here, only set the bar a little bit to help frame up what the next few statements. In the fly fishing community I'm pretty much nobody. It is what it is, but the guys at WorldCast treated me like I was somebody for a couple days. At first I thought it was maybe they didn't know, and maybe my friend Steve who had hooked all this up had built me up to be something more than I am. However, after a couple days it became clear they knew that I was pretty much no big deal, but they were so cool that is just how they are. They're a bunch of die-hard angler/outfitters with kind souls. I can't stress this enough to you guys, they're really good dudes. I think in the hundreds of trips I've been on with outfitters this crew was the most well rounded and respectful bunch of hosts I've ever met. I just installed this analytics program on this site and there are only about a 1000 folks visiting a week or so. So I don't know if this will really reach anyone, but I will say it anyways. If you head to Idaho and are in the area of the Tetons or want to book a destination trip check these guys out. Not only can they fish, they will leave you wanting more.
WorldCast Website

More to come on Baja East Cape Action here are a couple Teaser Shots.

Driggs, ID

2009-07-16T06:17:00.000-07:00

Got back late yesterday from fishing with the boys at WorldCast. I leave in an hour here for East Cape, so will just drop a few pics and tell the story upon return. Here is the nut: Belay oursevles and boats over a 1000 foot cliff into class three and four rapids to catch Snake River and Yellowstone Cutts. More story and shots when I return. 90 gigs were shot!

More when I get back guys.

Northern Pike Attacks Fly Fisherman Video

2009-07-08T20:14:00.000-07:00

So this one has been around a while, but I dig it. You have to love a fish so angry it will attack food in the hands of something that outweights the fish by 15 times. That is one mean predator.

Should have the latest installment from the reject pile out tomorrow night. Can you say Roosters from the Beach?

A

Daily Update: Red Dirt

2009-07-07T06:46:00.000-07:00

My friend Kevin Powell just got done with a rebuild of his website Red Dirt Studios.

This site is something different and worth the look. Kevin compiles all his passions into one place: Art, Cooking, Plants, and of course Fly Fishing.

A Blog, forum, and cookbook covering everything needed to fuel up for a day out on the water. Including a very interesting stream side desert contributed by The Fiberglass Manifesto Man himself, Cameron.

On Deck at Sleeping in the Dirt:

From this week's reject pile: Baja, East Cape Rooster Fish story

Reports:
This weekend is Wyoming Cutts
Next weekend is back to the Baja for some more Roosters
Then one week off to edit all the photos
First week in August off to fish Bull Trout
Get back then head out to Fish Mako
Five days after that Goldens in the Sierras
Ten days later, a week in AK fishing Silvers and big Bows with mice patterns.

More to come.

Aaron

Apache trout, Hudson, Addison, and the 4th of July.

2009-07-04T20:15:00.000-07:00

Family day here at the Dirt. We took Ms. Addison out on her inaugural trip to catch what else, the state fish. Big brother Hudson didn't allow Addison's sleeping through her first fishing adventure to slow him down. In usual H-monkey style, we had to stop and check out all things unusual along the side of the road, pee in the woods, and of course-fish.

We left around 6:30 AM, heading northeast towards Globe. On the way to the small mining town of my wife's birth, there are many side trips a family could take. One of these trips would be Boyce Thompson Arboretum. Perched overlooking the gardens is a home that claims the status of set for 1990's film, featuring Salma Hayek and Keifer Sutherland, Uturn.

The arboretum is worth the look. I've seen them both. Just up highway 60 from Boyce Thompson sits the town of Superior. A quick stop for Hudson's first "pee-break" revealed self titled, the World's Smallest Museum. Upon inspection of the museum's contents old camera's and Arizona memorabilia is found. One such photo, of Goyathlay, more commonly known as Geronimo used to frequent the pass traveling from Northern Arizona on his way to raid Mexican border towns.

Five minutes later and back on the road we entered the canyon separating Globe/Miami from the rest of Arizona. The significance of this pass is often over looked, literally. To the careful or educated observer traveling this road, the old Wells Fargo Stage route can still be seen paralleling the road below.
The midway point between Superior and the towns of Globe and Miami is the town of: Top of the World. This little pit-stop is now nothing more than a handful of antique roadside shops catering to tourists as they make their way from all places north to Phoenix. At one time though, not so long ago, The Top of the World was home to Arizona's biggest-little whore-house. Story goes that during the peak of the Copper boom the proprietors of the brothel were so bold as to advertise in the local paper. Ultimately the boldness of publication of their services in the local papers was their own demise, and some of the best clientele -the local police-were forced to shut them down. Too bad for the miners, I guess?

Onward and upward, we make it through the pass and to my wife's hometown of Globe. One more pit stop at the Golden Arches for the three-year-old bladder and we hang a left out of town towards the Salt River Canyon. Tara took over driving and I snapped a couple shots of our co-pilots in back. Meet Milk-Face & H-Monkey, otherwise known as my two little anglers, Addison and Hudson.

More to come on our day in the sun, a good day to be an American, an angler, and a dad.

Part Dos: Sponsorship.

Right before hitting the Salt River Canyon we swung through MC-Dees and got our first official endorsement for Sleeping in the Dirt. Two guns up from Senior-drive-through, now we're talking. With a couple Bacon-Egg-MC-Diesels and apples for H we were off. Almost as soon as we finished breakfast on the road, the two in-tow were sawing logs. "Ahhhh Quiet time", the most under rated thing in a parent’s life.

Just outside of Globe you will enter the San Carlos Apache Reservation. Thirty miles later is Seneca Lake. Another great stop for families looking to spend a day by the water. The Tribal Game and Fish stock the lake with Rainbow Trout by the tens of thousands and limit boat traffic to float tubes, and boats without gas engines. There are Largemouth’s, Sunfish, and Crappie naturally reoccurring in the lake as well. I prefer to fish for Sunfish on the fly when giving the opportunity, and have had many a half-pounder filled days casting into the east banks reeds with nymphs. If you decide to fish Seneca, make sure you get the appropriate tribal permit.

Trading high desert lakes for treacherous canyons-scope, the Salt River Canyon is quite a view. Many drivers have met their maker navigating its twists and turns with only mere inches of guardrail separating car from a thousand foot drop. So drive slowly and keep a sharp eye, this is a common pass for truckers and the steep slopes can reek havoc on their rigs breaks.

After clearing the Canyon, the straight shot to Show Low went without interruption. Hudson and Addison were still sleeping in the backseat, trading snores. His were constant and steady, hers light and pitched softly as if she was humming in her sleep.

Hudson awoke, with a request, "I need to pee."

With thirty miles left to our main destination we pulled over roadside overlooking a creek that shall remain nameless. Some secrets needn't be revealed. I unbuckled H from his car seat and noticed fire-ants crawling all over the ground.

"Hudson you will have to stand on dad's shoes while you go pee."

H noticed all the ants immediately and proceeded to shoot them, calling out commands like a three foot general, "Bombs Away, Shoot, shoot, shoot, take that." Hudson was really getting into destroying the ant colony in front of us and he started swinging his hips from left to right. Covering more ground and extending his swath of destruction, "Yaahoooooooooo!”

Hudson seemed to be pretty accurate with his little pee-shooter and successfully typhoon a few dozen ants into another zip code before finishing up. The only casualty other than ants was the toes on my left foot.

"Oh-well, life as a dad," I thought.

Buckled up and back in the car, I thought, "Next stop fish."

Addison peeped in the backseat as we turned down the dirt road to our angling destination. Tara mixed up a bottle and Addi reached for it with kung-fu ferocity, little hands spinning as she tried to grab the approaching bottle. If she could talk, she would most assuredly be saying, "Gimmie, gimmie, gimmie, gimmie, gimmie-gimmie-gimmie-gimmie."

We all piled out of the car, Addison in the Bjorn, and Hudson out in front leading the way to the water. Let the fishing commence.

Fish one was a surprise rainbow caught by my wife. The fish ate our go-to fly, the Copper Bob in thigh deep water of a tailout. The hen was holding just under a patch of hydrillus and lunged upon Tara's helpless fly, it had no chance. (Fish or fly)

Hudson cheered his mother on and came running to her side. He didn't want to hold this rainbow, but mom's early success was enough for him to switch camps and Hudson was now fishing with her and not dear old dad.

It's amusing for me to see Tara fish with Hudson. Hudson doesn't like to be helped and for all intensive purposes he most likely fishes more than any other three year old alive so he's got a bit of a right to be stand-offish. Tara on the other hand uses her motherly charm, slowing down her voice patting his hair, and doing everything a mother can do to make her boy feel safe. The whole process of those two fishing is like a game. Hudson will protest he can do it on his own. Tara will counter with a backrub or some other mommy-move. The whole process is quite comically for me.

This particular day the fish gods were kind and before Hudson and mom got too frustrated, they were rewarded with a nice little Apache Trout. Seeing them both light up like children, the child Hudson is and the child still inside Tara she was, is why I was here.

That is fishing, joy of the catching, casting, and the experience. The moment when folks celebrate unconscious of how excited they are all made possible by a tiny little finned-creature. Now that is worth the price of admission.

We released the little guy and mommy got a bit stuck, requiring Hudson's help to get out of the water. A couple fish under our belt and it was time to hunt for bugs. Hudson love's to hunt for bugs or in his words, "fishy-food."

We spend a good portion of time on every trip looking for what fish eat. Discovering where they live how they make their homes, and ultimately the flies that imitate them. All days in the field end up like this for us. Once Hudson has choose his favorite bug for the day, he then get's to open up dad's fly box and find the closest match. This usually sparks a conversation about the bug and the fly imitating it.

Although we didn't have a Green Hopper to match the Hatch, we had something close enough. Tying one on for Hudson and Tara, Hudson was confident this one would work. Addison had fallen back to sleep in the chest carrier and Hudson was looking a little sleep-eyed himself. Spreading out a blanket in the shade along the big bend in the stream we were fishing we laid them both down. After a rendition of Jack and the Bean Stalk, the snoring started again.

We choose our location for nap time strategically, right in front of the deepest hole in the stream I know about. It was a good bet fish would be stacked like cordwood at the bottom of this depression looking for cooler temps in the rising sun of midday. Before we rigged up, I attached my camera in underwater housing to a twelve foot monopod. Set a ten second delay on the timer and probed the deeps. Here is what we got back.

With a successful recon, Tara and I fished for a couple hours, not moving more than thirty feet from where our two little ones snoozed. My guess is we caught darn near every one of those Apaches in two hours by sinking a Hudson's Orange and Yellow Hopper pick from the box.

I will leave you with a series of photos that closed out our day, Tara and I on the stream were it all begin for Hudson three years ago on his first trip, and now Addison on hers. This stream holds special meaning for me and it is the best way I could think of to spend our 4th of July.