Saturday Plans.

Checklist:
1)Fill the cooler with snadwich and beer
2)pack up the 3wt
3)Grab the box of dries..... (leave the streamers and nymphs at home)
4)Feed Jackson so he has plenty of energy to hike
5)Put Beef Jerky in backpack
6)Pack up dog treats for Jackson so he doesn't eat ALL the beef jerky
7)Update ipod create playlist for ride out
8)wear lucky boxers.

What tomorrow should look like:

Its Thursday.

One more day till friday. Time to have a beer.
Cheers,
Jackson.

Happy Father's Day

For all the dads out there.... Have a beer, go fish.
Cheers,
Sir Jackson and Me.

Field Testing.

Ego Booster.

What you see is what you get. Small, wild, jewel.
If you are getting your ass handed to you by the Metolius.... pull out the map find a blue line near sisters..... pack up the cooler (hopefully with an IPA), get your 3 wt and go after the wreckless natives in that creek nearby.

This was the case when my dad, fiance, and I decided we REALLY needed to feel a tug at the end of our lines. A short, light rod, and bushy dries. Oh yeah.... some stealth required: My old man stalking:



This place is not a secret..... and its not talked about. I mean, who would give a shit about this tiny creek close to the deschutes, fall, metolius, and many central oregon lakes?

Metolius.

The Metolius...... cold, clear, technical, beautiful. A stream that bubbles right out of the ground to form a legendary river. Legendary? While I must say the scenery was legendaty..... the fishing was NOT.

I had looked forward to this trip with my family for quite some time. I was not doing my usual routine..... sleeping in the dirt, eating whatever kept me warm at night and drinking enough to ensure a good nights sleep. Instead, thanks to my family, we got a cabin..... RIGHT on the river.

When we first showed up, bugs were everywhere.... pmd's, cadddis, and blue winged olives were all mixed in. I thought for sure the trout fishing would be cake. What I wanted most of all was a bull trout. And I thought I came prepared:



After getting skunked for our entire first morning (me, my fiance, and my dad) we though regrouping and having some beer would get us ready for the afternoon. I was confused..... where the hell were the fish? The bugs wewre out in force, the temperature felt perfect, and the flows seemed great. What I soon realized was that I had not seen a single person catch a fish all day. After asking around it quickly became clear that even the locals know that paying your dues on the metolius is part of the game. I can respect that.

That afternoon I was bouncing a stonefly off the bottom of a deep trough when IT took my fly and decided to peel off down stream.... my rod was pumping and after a few head shakes, in my most classic nature, I lost the bull trout I so badly wanted to catch. Even though I was pissed I did manage to bring a trout to hand before dark. My ONLY Metolius redside:



Not a large amount of fishing took place.... but that was fine with me.... the highlight of my trip was sitting around the campfire with my family drinking and being merry. I plan on returning to the Metolius with different expectations.... a gorgeous river that is technical is my cup of tea.... but I have to be mentally prepared for it next time. We were too early for the green drakes. I'll be back in a few weeks. Sir Jackson loved it as well: