I’m sure everyone has noticed the Aquatic Hitchhikers signs around Oklahoma’s trout fisheries. The enemy my fly rod wielding friends is Didymo. As good stewards of the water we have to inspect, clean and dry our gear after every trip. Let’s get educated on this nuisance and insure our kids have water to call their home.
I couldn’t help my thoughts from drifting to the pools and ripples of the river as the snow blanketed the landscape this Christmas. Everything around me seemed to remind myself of my own obsession.
The two classic framed vintage flies on my writing desk, my new pull-over fleece adorned with a fly shop logo from Montana, waders still drying from Monday, trout patterned pajama pants and worst of all, blue sky’s with no wind.
Perhaps tomorrow?
H.L.
I found myself listening to the symphony of water dancing across the rocky bottom, on vacation and having the perfect day. I’m an analog man in a digital world so any chance I have to get out of the rat race and into the wild disappearing behind the old oaks and down weathered trails to the streams edge to cast a fly, I take it.
As I recall it was a clear very sunny, 58° with a water temperature of 51° moving at 110 cfs. The river was the bluest I had ever seen. When I reached the water there were two fishermen on a very nice pool so I moved up stream to the next. I asked how they had been doing and the answer was not good. So I decided to fish tandems and double my luck hitting two water columns at once.
Now, I rarely fish tandems because of the wind we have here in Oklahoma however, on this day there was none. I went with a soft hackle then a midge. Bingo, Fish on!
It just keep getting better and better. I brought 6 fish to hand on that pool then I moved to the lower pool where the other two fisherman had been but had since moved on, back to the parking lot. I noticed a nice seam with plenty of bubbles. 
Well, I went on to catch 4 more fish out of that hole and the largest of that perfect day on the water. 2 hours with 10 Rainbows brought to hand.
Angler, Wonderer, Naturalist
Have you ever found yourself in the middle of a river thanking god that you're not a bushwa ahole? That is exactly where I found myself this past weekend. It was time for the annual 3 day 300 mile fishing extravaganza, so I headed the 4x4 eastward towards the Mountain Fork.
I reached the river by 1:30pm friday and quickly gathered my gear to do some major recon, plus i had to meet the rest of the group at 3:00pm. Wow, what a picture perfect view.
I decided to go with the San Juan Worm in size 14 and had several hits but no takers. Hello, drop down to size 16. One Problem, I had none. So that night I whipped a few up for the morning's 24 degree frozen battlefield.
After a bit of a walk I found a nice pool with plenty of bubbles and a medium current. One cast Two cast Three cast Bang. Fish on! The only problem I had was, fast water. I had to take off at a dead run down stream in order to find slow water and net the first fish of the trip. 
Shortly after that in the same spot, bang. Fish number two on!
By 9am four fish were brought to hand, two of size and two stockers. 9am also brought the only other fisherman of the morning. The fishing and the company went down hill from there. One after another after another they made their way up the river taking up pockets, runs, pools and ripples. Everyone in $400 dollar waders $500 dollars jackets $800 dollar fly rods $10 dollar Churchill Cigars they always fish in packs and one group even had a casting instructor. W.T.F., you have to be kidding me. A casting instructor? I couldn't help myself from laughing. I make it no secret that I have no love for the Bushwa crowd.
