You do realize this means war?!?!

There is a belief, and I am one of its proponents, which holds that all God's creatures have a purpose; a function they serve for the greater good. It is often the viewpoint of those who do not encounter nature on a regular basis, that things in the wild are evil or are lurking about seeking whom they may devour. It is the idea that the snake that bites the hiker awoke that morning and positioned itself in the perfect spot to deal out its evil plan of poisonous destruction. Bears crawl from their hibernation and the first thing on their minds is a blind rage infused rampage on all mankind. Of course these people are sadly mistaken. The snake bites man out of self preservation, the bear...well they do seem to be one walking juggernaut of fur, teeth, and claws...but in truth, just like the rest of us, they are just trying to survive. Self preservation is the highest indicator that life is sweet and must be maintained at all costs.

But, for the sake of discussion, what happens when your life is directly infringed upon by another of God's special creations? What happens if, say, a mouse...a small creature in the big scheme of things, finds its way into your home. And what would happen if the same tiny mouse were to find, out of all the potential munchies in all the rooms of your home, a stack of nice, clean Pheasant skins? What would be the impact, if, an angler such as myself were to go to his little slice of fly fishing heaven in the lower reaches of his domicile to find feathers strewn about, beads knocked across the table, and the skin of the Pheasants had been nibbled...or better yet gnawed. And what if, there were tell tale droppings scattered all over the table, chair, floor, without the slightest hint at modesty?

There might be some that would chuckle as they found holes chewed into each item contained in a brand new pack of thingamabobbers as if they were fruit ripe for the picking. Perhaps others may find a soft spot in their heart for the little one that apparently likes to build a nest out of the finest of dry fly dubbing. The most Godly of the bunch might be touched by the cork that had been nibbled, or the starling skin that had been wrestled with in some small scale donnybrook.

I wish that I were as kind, loving, and understanding as those people...but alas, I am not.

Two days prior to finding that my fly tying/ rod building cubbyhole had been effectively ransacked, my wife found what she believed to be the sign that at least one rodent might be present within our downstairs living area. We have lived here nearly eleven years and have never had the first problem of any kind with any creatures other than the stray wasp, a few gnats, and some amazingly colored moths that slip into our house at night as we enter the door. But this assumption of home invasion took a different twist when I went into my little area. It had been several days since I had been back there so the exact date of the crime is impossible to pinpoint; but the evidence was everywhere. I, began my war.

I told my wife to pick up some mouse traps, and she did, but the ones she bought were big enough to clamp down on things like rats, young opossum, and raccoon. In hopes that it might work, she set each of the four traps and the next morning each of them had been picked clean. So we purchased some more, but this time they were small, stealthy, quick, and hopefully...lethal.

Tonight when I came home from the office we went down to inspect. It is my solemn duty to inform you that our world is short two rodents, their bodies collected and disposed of with at least a modicum of dignity.

There are many things you can mess with. You can disrupt the peace and tranquility of my home with the minor inconvenience of rodent invasion. But when you mutilate some of the most beautiful Pheasant skins I have ever seen, and knock enough tungsten beads across the room to sink a battleship, I have no choice but to declare war, and when I go to war, I do not play.

I didn't tell my wife, but I saw a blacksnake around the utility room outside. Being someone who doesn't do snakes very well, I may just live and let live on this one...unless my wading gear is infringed upon.

But lets hope and pray that the battle of blacksnake ridge never comes to pass...

Did I mention that I don't do snakes?

But...if you've seen this DVD (which I highly recommend http://www.amazon.com/Once-Blue-Moon-Adventure-Lifetime/dp/B00284BVC2 )...perhaps there is something else I could do with the little fur balls.

On the Fly Productions

A place where all things are fly fishing

Between the Great Salt Lake and Utah Lake in the community of Sandy is a location near and dear to us here at The Perfect Drift. It is there you will find Fishwest, without question one of the coolest fly shops I have ever had the pleasure of doing business with.

No…unfortunately I have not shadowed their door, but I do have a computer, and it is through the magical medium known as the world wide web that I have hung around like a regular.

All things fly fishing. These folks live it, love it, and believe in it…no posers here to be certain.

Fishwest has an outstanding variety of merchandise to meet absolutely any need you have and are swift to get it to you. Not a day goes by that I do not visit their site, particularly to check their specials and closeouts; amazing deals on everything from rods to shirts. Another thing that is really cool is they have a link to items specific to the women of our sport. You know, the impression most (including myself) get about angling, is that it is a guy thing. I have learned, and am still learning, that is not the case and Dustin and his staff are quick to provide the ladies with things that might be better suited for them including waders and vests that are tailored for the female body shape.

They offer live online support, are quick to reply to any email questions you may have (I know this first hand), and have an ordering system that is effortless.

Another cool thing you will find on their site is a link to Pisciphilia. Now there is a ten dollar word for ya. What is Pisciphilia you might ask? Well, I could tell you, but it would take away from the fun of you finding out for yourself. I’ll just say that it is an outstanding blog/online magazine that covers all the issues and also has helpful info on knots, dubbing, news relevant to the sport…and on occasion, you might find yours truly with a post as well. Currently there is a report on nymphing the Green River that is absolutely epic. Go read it for yourself.

At a time when so much of our world is impersonal and just about the bottom line, it is refreshing to see that there are a few folks out there who are not only good at business, but good with people. Dustin has knocked it out of the park on both counts and I am very glad to have found a friend in Fishwest. Give them a visit…it is worth your time…I promise.

You can find Fishwest here: http://www.fishwest.com/


And, you can find Pisciphilia here: http://explore.fishwest.com/



Tomorrow, it is all out war in the land of The Perfect Drift!!! Stay tuned!!!

Steve and Marc go fishing (Pt.2)

Steve:
Moving to some faster water I switched to the second of the Two Fly menu – the Pheasant Tail nymph. I chose a ugly little Beadhead Pheasant Tail. I had tied this particular fly early in my tying career and it was too fat to be a true PT. But given that the fish weren’t going to get too good a look at it and they were borderline suicidal I didn’t think its proportions would matter much.


And I was proven correct.

First cast, fish on. Fish to net. It happened so quick I thought I had snagged the bottom. Another feisty fight in a place where I rarely fail to find a fish.

The remainder of the afternoon was spent casting my pheasant tail in likely places. I got a few more fish. A bunch more tugs on the line and caught the bottom a bit too often. Such is the price of putting a heavy nymph in small water.

The fast water ran through a dark evergreen forest that caused the evening to come quicker than upstream. And upstream there were the slower sections that practically promised rising fish. And so I hike back up into the light.

Unfortunately the bugs and the fish weren’t on the same wavelength with me. Not rise. Not a fish. But the Two Fly was a success. Two Flys attracted fairly regular attention and I got to fish with Marc.


Marc:
There is a hard riffle thirty yards or so upstream so I tie on a size 16 Pheasant Tail Nymph with some weight and try to high stick the turbulent current. Seems that there is always a rainbow or two hanging out in this spot, but trying to high stick a heavily weighted fly on a 3wt. bamboo is next to impossible.


Its strike indicator time in Tennessee. I tie on a bright orange cut of yarn and go back through the run. Still not easy to do with this rod, but easier. Three or four casts and I hook up yet again with another small rainbow. This one had been caught before and its captor was of the feathered variety. Deep gashes on its back. I put it back in the water and think to myself that the little guy will probably not make it much longer. I wish him well and move back downstream.

With my nymph and indicator rig still intact, I go back to my true target…the brown. At this point I am straight upstream from him along the bank so I just roll cast a few feet in front of me, then feed out line as the fly heads downstream. The indicator, a bright beacon of glorified bobber fishing, drifts nonchalantly with the current, goes under the elm branch, moves in line with the rock ledge. And out of nowhere this large brown mouth appears.

One thing you think I would have learned by now. Strike indicators such as the one I was using do not have hooks, therefore, it one has a fish strike said indicator, the likelihood of catching a fish is next to nada. Unless of course the yarn gets massively tangled in its mouth, or, as was the case here, you foul hook it in the tail with the fly you were presenting.

Now, I have stated previously in this post how weighted flies are difficult on a 3wt bamboo. That problem is nothing compared to the trouble you face when you have that same light rod and on the other end is a large hooked fish whose head is free from the guidance of the line. All I could do, and I do mean ALL I could do, was just hang on. He ran far and fast till the backing on my reel started to show. One last raise of the rod tip ……he, my fly, and my indicator were gone.

Later, as I headed to my car, I looked back at the river and could have sworn that I saw an orange piece of yarn just under the surface of the water.

*Closing Comments*
 
I was amazed at how in many ways Steves report and my report are so similar.  What I learn from that is that no matter where you are, in most cases, our sport is the same.  We both got off the beaten path, we both caught fish, and we both left a little better off for having gone. 
 
I hope this experiment has been enjoyable for you as the reader.  Perhaps Steve and I will fish again...I know that I would like it.  Who knows, maybe next time we will find ourselves on the same body of water, but if not, it'll still be good spending time on two rivers with a friend.
 
Tomorrow, we take a look at Fishwest!!!!!
 
Steves Blog: http://sippingemergers.blogspot.com/

Steve and Marc go fishing (pt. 1)

Steve:
The rivers in the area are starting to settle in to their summer flows. They’ve come to this state later than normal due to a good snowpack and productive spring rainfalls. Soon the water will no longer cool your toes when you wade in. But not quite yet.


The air is heavier than it was only a few weeks ago. The mercury has dodged towards the triple digits once or twice. While it never quite got there it let you know that it was possible; that summer was here. Soon the fruit on the wild grape growing on the banks will purple and fill the air with it sweet scent. But not quite yet.

The Noname River is a pretty little stream that I’ve fish relatively often this year. In past years I fished this river only in the spring and fall. Most years the summer flows are very low and too warm to play with the trout. But this year it is still flowing at a reasonable rate and the water retains a good chill as measured by my Teva’d toes.

The stream has a pretty solid wild trout population but like most of these small New England streams the bug life is sparse. While that lack of solid biomass inhibits growth of trout it also means that when they see something foodlike, they pounce. That’s this stream’s appeal.

Along the first hundred yards or so from the road the water is thin. I’ve fished it a couple of times but even the likely spots that have some depth rarely yield a fish. There is this one little pool where the stream flow encounters a large boulder and some ledge. The hard turn of the current has carved out a bit of a hole. I’ve seen fish scurrying for cover as I’ve approached. But that usually means I’ve spooked them and I pass them buy.

This time I was smart enough to bushwhack a bit off the trail as I came upon this pool so that the fish were fresh. I noticed a rise as I walked by so I knew where to cast. With a Parachute Adams, the first of the Two Fly, on my leader I walked out on that piece of ledge and commenced to casting. It took a few drifts to get into the right spot but once I was in the zone the response was immediate. A beautiful, wild Brown Trout came to hand.

The Parachute Adams did the trick several more times as I worked through the slow runs below. I got about half the fish that slashed at the fly to hand. The biggest was an eight inch Brown. All thin. All feisty. All returned to catch again.

Marc:
The water was unusually vacant for a summer afternoon. It is the peak of vacation season which usually means an unending flotilla of yellow, orange and lime green tubes are meandering down the river. This day however, it was empty, but large piles of river stones and more than one piece of trash let me know that they had been there at some point during the day. I was glad that they were gone. Not to besmirch their right to enjoy this wonderful place, but casting is hard enough here without having to worry about hooking a child.


I tied on a size 14 Parachute Adams, stepped in the stream, and stood for a minute or two so that my bare legs could adjust to the abrupt change in temperature. Honestly, I could stop right there and just stand looking at this wonderful place, but when you are a middle aged man, and you are standing alone in a river, you had best be DOING something. So I scanned the water for signs of life.

Across the stream, underneath an overhanging branch of an Elm tree was a sipper. Nothing huge to be certain, but the fish was active. I sidestepped upstream about twenty feet to get a better presentation as my fly drifted into the feeding lane, fed out a few feet of line and came back with my cast. That is when I was reminded that trees line BOTH sides of the bank. My fly had found an oak branch. An oak branch that was out of reach. An oak branch that, unless something very severe has occurred in the interim, still has a size 14 Parachute Adams dangling like a Christmas ornament.

I tie on a size 14 Parachute Adams, move a little further out into the stream, and stand for a minute or two to see if my target was still eating. He was there. And this time he had a dinner guest, just behind him and closer to a rock ledge. This one was bigger, much bigger, and it was he who now garnered my attention.

The cast was as close to good as I could get and the path of my drift would put it right between them. The fly came in close, intersected the two trout, and the smaller one hit it as if its life depended upon it. The Riverdale Classic 6’6” 3 wt. (the name of rods I build) bent with short quick dips as the fish darted left and right, then airborne before being handed, unhooked, and released. Not much bigger than my hand, but with color that just isn’t found anywhere else around here.

I redress my fly, check my knot, and flick it back out into the same run. I know that there was also a big fish feeding, and I also know that one of my good friends caught a 22” Brown from this same spot. My imagination begins running wild. I get nervous. The fly reaches ground zero…nothing. I cast again. Nothing. Then I begin to think that perhaps the remaining fish was put down by my previous catch. I move on to let it have enough time to forget about me…I will be back.

Fishing the Metcalf Bottoms and the Housatonic...in one trip!

As a writer/blogger, the chance meeting of many amazing people is common.  I have, through networking, met so many cool folks in places that either I have never visited, or will most likely drop in on at some point.  But there is one element to making friends in the world of fly fishing that is elusive.  The story is common.  You meet someone who fly fishes...you hook up and fish together...this is almost mandatory.  But what do you do when you make a friend and they are hundreds of miles away?

Well...I came up with this plan....

I became friends with fellow angler Steve Zakur through the Outdoor Blogger Network.  He and I are the same age and have amazingly similar approaches to both our crafts, angling and writing.  So I thought...what the heck, lets go fishing.

But how, you ask, could you do that if he is hundreds of miles away?  Fear not!  The resourseful one here at The Perfect Drift contacted Steve.  He would fish his water, I would fish mine, we would use the same flies, and then put out a combined report.  He would be on the legendary Housatonic River, and I...I would find myself in God's Southern Holy Cathedral...The Great Smoky Mountains National Park.

So here is how the report is gonna go...

Over the next couple of days, I will be combining Steves Report with mine as if we were together.  The text will be presented in somewhat of a script.  Here is an example...

Steve:  Nice catch Marc!
Marc:  Gee thanks Steve!
Marc:  Do you have another Parachute Adams?  I seem to have lodged my last one in the back of my head!
Steve:  Of course!  Here take two in case you once again impail yourself!
Marc:  Thanks Steve!

I think you get the picture.

We each used Parachute Adams for dries, and Pheasant Tails for subsurface.  Generic flies to be sure...but as you will read over the coming days....very effective.

Here are my friend Steve's opening remarks:

Fishing with Marc


Marc and I first met when we were both competing for the Trout Unlimited bloggers contest on the Outdoor Blogger Network. We’re both non-winners garnering not even an honorable mention (a point about which we both remain remarkably less than bitter. See, there’s that sarcasm again). But perhaps we took away from that event something more profound that an all expense paid trip to Montana.

From a blogging perspective we’re kindred spirts. Our blogs seem to have a similar mix of reports, commentary and sarcasm. And we both seem to enjoy fishing the same kind of water. Sure, we’ll fish a Blue Ribbon fishery if we get the chance but we do share an affinity for smaller streams that wander through rugged terrain.

Marc’s backyard is the western edge of the Smokies. Mine is the Housatonic. And yet, Marc suggested we fish together some weekend. And so we did last Sunday. While we were fishing on two streams hundreds of miles apart, in a stroke of brilliance Marc suggested that the way to connect the two experiences was to fish the same flies. It’s something I think of as a Two-Fly Trip.

The idea of Two Fly is to select a surface and subsurface fly and fish them exclusively. Beyond that, there’re no rules. Enjoy some time on the water. Catch fish. We then agreed to collaborate on a report. That report is below. We hope you enjoy our first Two Fly trip. I hope there are more to come.

You can read Steve's outstanding Blog here: http://sippingemergers.blogspot.com/

Tomorrow: WE GO FISHING!!!!!!!!!!

Mending mid drift (life application)

The mend.  A correction of the fly line as it is impacted by different currents in the stream.  I am not the greatest at this, yet it is vital to obtaining the perfect drift...and the reason for my blog name.  Underneath the surface of any given trout stream is a flurry of activity.  Trout and other aquatic creatures move and dance with a current that is constant yet ever changing. 

The need for the mend in your drift is to keep the fly line from presenting the fly in a way that does not look natural.  For success in most cases, the drift is the single most important, and often overlooked portion of a cast.  Get it right and success is at hand, botch it and your fly either skitters across the surface like a water skier or jumps over every fish in the stream. 

Each stream in any particular area has multiple hydrological issues that the fly line is moved, bellied, bowed, or in some cases, sank completely.  It is the zen of the angler to detect these things and move in accordance to what the water dictates.  This is a part of our craft that never changes.  We are always in hot pursuit of the perfect drift.

Life is much like this.  As our life moves downstream, we are often impacted by currents that are not under our control.  Frustration comes easily when we do not read the current of our days leading to an unsuccessful attempt or missing the mark.  Often we dream of victory that seems to be right under the surface, but we go dancing unnaturally across the surface leaving these amazing life events behind.

I am often very opinionated, most likely a habitual offender of faithless living, and assuredly a man who allows his pride to block obvious blessing.  All of these occur because I have lost the drift.  I have not allowed myself to relax, see the flow, and make adjustments as needed.  But thankfully I now recognize the correlation and have reached the point where the light bulb is flickering.

John Buchan is quoted as saying, "The charm of fishing is that it is the pursuit of what is elusive but attainable, a perpetual series of occasions for hope."  Much like the rest of our lives isn't it?  The big hurdle comes when we are faced with actually making life application out of our sport.

You may not agree...and I am fine with that, but I firmly believe that every area of our lives is intertwined to the point that one part will teach us something about another.  That there actually are life lessons that can be learned in everything from a person we work with, watching a football game, or standing in a river waving a stick.  It is all about how we choose to perceive small snippets of our lives.

So, in light of what I know to be my own shortcomings, and the desire to reach that unattainable thing we call perfection, I will try to learn from the river; that babbling cacophony of change and potential.  I will seek to apply elsewhere that which I have gleaned from time spent watching a floating line being moved by a current that was moving before I was born, and which will be moving long after I have gone.  Maybe, just maybe, I will have learned enough to get a few other things right.  I can't ask for much more than that.

The "One" part "Two"

Trout MaGee replied to yesterdays post by saying:

 "I hear you man. If it was up to me and I could ever afford another rod I would probably go Bamboo. I don't quite understand the outrageous prices of many of the rods today. Like you said its really just about you and the trout and the fly. The rest is just a difference in how much money you are willing to spend. I have been using the same rod for at least 7 years now and I don't plan on upgrading any time soon. It seems to do the trick and I have no complaints."

His comments were probably a good barometer of how much of the angling community feels.  Most of us are either on a fixed budget or no budget at all and although I love Fly Fishing and everything about it, spending a lot of money on equipment is just not feasible.

So how do you do it?  How do you get that dream rod or whatever the golden ticket might be for you?  Trout M. certainly opened the door for me to make the following comment...You build your own.

I love...I mean really love...fishing with bamboo, but have you priced those things lately?  Even a middle of the road boo with a taper of some reputation is going to set you back at least as much as the new space aged fishing weapons of choice.  More out of desire to own bamboo than anything...I started building my own.  My own color of wraps, my own choice of taper, my own length, my own grip and reel seat.  And here is the kicker...I can build one for almost as much as you would spend on a TFO.  Graphite?  Done that too.  My biggest investment is my time.  I get all the stuff, cut some time out at my fly tying/ rod building area, and I just go at it.  About a month later, I am fishing with a new rod.

Do I have and fish store bought rods?  Yep.  I am actually waiting on one to return from being repaired by the manufacturer as I write this.  But there is just something about hooking into a fish on a bamboo rod that I have built myself using a fly that I have tied that just...well...its just cool.

Graphite blanks are all over the Internet.  Bamboo blanks are as well.  For a little less money you can have that rod of your dreams if you are willing to spend a little time putting the whole show together.  It is fun, and I must admit it can be a bit of an ego thrill when someone asks you what rod you are using and you tell them it is one you built.

The downsides to building your own is the learning curve and the warranty.  The learning curve is just an investment of time and study to get the skills down needed to assemble and trick out the blank.  The warranty...well...there isn't one.  If it breaks, its broke.  No shipping it off to the manufacturer for repair.  You gotta either buy a new section/or sections, or scrap it out.

I would never turn down any of the new super light weight sticks that are on the market.  I actually think that they are perfecting our sport down to a science...but then again...haven't they always been working on improving it?  Bamboo-Fiberglass-Graphite-????.  It is all just a natural progression of technology meeting sport.

**SHAMELESS PLUG ALERT**

If you want to build one for yourself, or if you are wanting one built for you, gimmie a shout and I'll help if I can.  You can build one for yourself with just a few items and some time.  You can reach me at marcpaynemsp@gmail.com if you have any questions about how to do it, or if you want one done for you.

As I end today's post, I want to offer an invitation to visit Trout MaGee on his outstanding blogs:
Trout MaGees Photo Blog (http://jobes-photo-blog-rasta.blogspot.com/)
The Catching Chronicles (http://fishing-catchingchronicles-troutmagee.blogspot.com/)

A kindred spirit to be sure.

One other thing.  I went fishing recently with someone, without ever meeting them in person or even being on the same river.  How did I pull that one off you ask?  Stay tuned.  This is one creative way to take a fishing trip and learn a few things in the process.

The next great one

I saw this week that Sage has a new rod on the market, and of course this one is the rod to beat all rods. They are so confident in the ability of this new technology driven tool that they named it “One”. Time for a little sacred cow tipping here...what makes it any different than any of the other magic wands on the market today? And while I am tipping I may as well throw this out there...why do you have to have space age technology to do what has been done with $3.00 cane stick and a coffee can full of worms?

Before you think I am on some anti Sage kick, or am ready to preach the undying power of traditionalism, let me say that I would be willing to guarantee that this is one awesome rod, but unless I either find one laying on a stream somewhere or get a product endorsement from Sage, odds are I will never use “One”. The price point on this new age of fly fishing has just about killed my dreams of any upgrade. I'd love a new pair of waders and boots, but even then if you want the best you are locked into a hefty investment.

I have stumbled on some sweet deals from time to time and have been given gifts that I could not have afforded on my own, but for the most part I either build it or buy an old used version of what I want. Frugality in fly fishing equipment is not something that I automatically turn to without thought. Given to my own desires I would have top of the line everything. I fish with guys who do have top of the line everything and here is what I have learned.

My waders leave me a little damp, my rods are heavy, my boots actually have the soles glued back in place...but I still catch fish. I still absolutely love my sport. And on a very, very rare occasion I will catch more than they do.

I also wonder what Sage will call their next upgrade. I mean, once you have gone ahead and called your rod “One” and basically referred to it as the one...do you stop? I doubt very seriously that Sage laid off their entire R and D department as soon as this rod hit production.

So much of our sport has become an endless marketing merry go round. It has been promoted both as an elitist sport for rich snobs and as the cult of Trout Bums who live in renovated school buses and spend all their money on beer, weed, and gear. Don't be fooled. Fly Fishing companies are making a ton of cash marketing to both ends of the spectrum.

I like to think that I am somewhere in the middle. Hanging with guys who work, make enough money to survive, and occassionaly will pick up some new gaget or rod for us to ooh and aah over for one or two trips...after that he's just a kid with a toy he got for Christmas two months ago. The guys I fish with are not ashamed of TFO's or older Sage and Orvis. They will pull out an old Fenwick fiberglass and cast it for a while. Its all the same to us. We are out there because in the quiet moments away from the river, we are dreaming about that same river. We are the type who are planning our next trip before we even say our goodbyes.

I would love to be a product tester/reviewer. Honestly it would be nice because of the gear I would get, but also because it would keep me in touch with the direction our sport is headed. At the end of the day though, no matter what product I am using to try and fool a trout, it is all about me, a trout, and a fly that I hope will fool him. He really doesn't care how the fly got to his spot in the river. He does not care that my left foot is soaked and my right boot it coming apart. He is indifferent to the fact that I am casting a hand me down rod that is heavy and slow. As a matter of fact, he really gives me no thought at all as long as I keep a respectful distance, or on the rare occasion he is sternly resisting the pull.

Perhaps one of my buddies will venture out and buy “One”. I'll give it a cast or two, and if on those two casts I catch two fish that take me into the backing and will not even fit in the net...I will respectfully retract my post and eat my hand me down Filson.

Trying to understand...

Theologian Rowan Williams was quoted in saying that, “ A healthy human environment is one in which we try to make sense of our limits, of the accidents that can always befall us and the passage of time which inexorably changes us”. Accidents. They are unavoidable and a millstone round the neck of the human condition. Never wanted, always unexpected, and the blow of the unforeseen can often leave us scratching our heads.

The Yellowstone River became the latest large scale victim of one of these events, and the potential fallout from this new oil company blunder may be long reaching. In this latest edition of The Perfect Drift, we are going to try our best to take a neutral viewpoint and look at this from both sides. Admittedly, this is not going to be easy for me to do because traditionally if you give me the choice between man made designs and nature, I am going to side with nature the majority of the time. But, in an effort to look at the whole picture, I am going to look very closely at the other side as well.

So....what do we know so far.

Sometime on July 2^nd an oil pipeline that runs under the Yellowstone River ruptured, spilling a huge amount of oil into the water. Exxon says that over 42,000 gallons of oil were spilled. Several hundred people were evacuated as the plume of oil covered about 25 miles of river.

You take 42,000 gallons of oil and dump it in the ocean and you have a massive oil slick that will impact wildlife that it comes in contact with. Take the same amount and dump it into a river which, though running high at this point, has a very defined path and no dam to slow it down, and you have yourself one heckuva mess.

One thing that trout need as a species is a high oxygen content in the water. Oil will reduce that oxygen level to a very dangerous and most likely fatal level. What this means is that this river at the point of the accident is in effect, dead. Of course conditions will most likely improve as it travels downstream, but nevertheless, any area touched by the oil will be damaged. Photos shown on MSNBC depict people standing on the river bank surrounded by a thick black sludge. No way to even come close to cleaning this up without effecting the overall conditions.

Exxon was quick to dispatch a massive PR campaign, sending its troops in to the area in an effort to save face. Hopefully they learned a little about how this should be handled from their rivals at BP. Right now the river is running at or near flood stage, sending flotsam into the river. The debris and high water are making it very hard to contain.

A grim faced Brian Schweitzer stated sternly that “...the parties responsible will restore the Yellowstone River.” I should hope so.

But what protection can we have against it happening again?

The painful truth of the matter is...we can't.

Like it or not, we live in a world that is so dependent upon oil that without it the whole house of cards will come falling down. Lets just look at Montana and The Yellowstone. Without question, the sportfishing industry in Montana is a huge part of its economy. In 2005, visiting anglers contributed 34.2 million dollars on fishing in the states many rivers and lakes. The question holds a painful truth. How did they get there? On horseback or by steam train? Did a magic carpet whisk them up from points unknown and drop them in the mecca of trout fishing in the lower 48? Nope. They got there in the good old all American way; they came by planes, cars, motorcycles, and huge recreational vehicles. Do these run on fairy dust and the dreams of children? Nope. They run on the very oil that is now oozing its way down this legendary river.

Far be it from me to be elitist in my viewpoint. I use my vehicle daily and if I am going to go fishing, I gotta hop in and take a drive. No doubt all of us are in the same boat. Even as I write this, my wife is driving to Chicago for the week. Lets face it, until they come up with a safer, cleaner way to travel, we are rolling the dice every single day.

So what do we do? How in the world do you hold the feet of Exxon to the fire? Boycott? Just for perspective, in one recent report, Exxon was said to have made a profit of 5,000,000.00 per hour every hour round the clock for a year. That is hard for me to get my poor little mind around. Our treasury department couldn't print money as fast as they are profiting. Needless to say, they are huge and they are powerful. One pipeline in their big picture is just a minor inconvenience to the bottom line. They will do what they must, perhaps a bit more, and at the end of the day the oil will continue flowing underneath the river.

The wheels of life as we know it will not be impacted by the disaster, unless of course you live or work in the area effected. Then it is a totally different game. For those folks it is a major life changing event. An event to which they had no warning or control. To them, I offer my prayers and hope for better days.

As long as we use man made things to transport materials that have the potential to create events such as we see in Montana, we should expect such events to occur. The Exxon Valdez, BP in the gulf, nuclear meltdown on the Japanese coast, the Yellowstone...and there will be others.

My favorite author is Wendell Berry. Mr. Berry has fought valiantly for the cause of stopping coal mining in Kentucky that causes the removal of entire mountain tops. He is diligent, but more than diligent, he lives a lifestyle that denotes his conviction. His home uses very little of what we consider modern conveniences, he raises his own food, owns no computer or television, and lives much like his family did during the time of the second world war. Odd? Not really if you take a look at what he is doing without and what he gains in return. We should all perhaps use this incident in Montana to take a look at where we are, what we do, and how we do it.

Given time, the Yellowstone will recover. History has shown that nature is resilient and though sometimes slow, it will make a comeback...eventually.

I leave you with a quote from Mr. Berry from his piece about the Exxon Valdez which is equally relevant now. This is from his essay “Word and Flesh”(What Are People For?, Counterpoint 2^nd Edition 2010).

“We are involved unremittingly in a war not against “foreign enemies,” but against the world, against our freedom, and indeed against our existence. Our so-called industrial accidents should be looked upon as revenges of Nature. We forget that Nature is necessarily party to all of our enterprises and that she imposes conditions of her own.
Now she is plainly saying to us: “If you put the fates of whole communities or cities or regions or ecosystems at risk in single ships or factories or power plants, then I will furnish the drunk or the fool or the imbecile who will make the necessary small mistake.”