Trout Quixote. one.

This is the second installment in a series. Here is a link to the first post. Be sure to subscribe on the right sidebar to get notifications when new content comes out!

When I go jogging outdoors, I like how I have an opportunity to think with minimal distractions. Call me paranoid, but having earbuds in seems like a great way to get hit by a car / mugged / mauled by a cougar. And being in the middle of  a move and a job change requiring all sorts of contemplation, I could use a little bit of time to think. But getting lost in my thoughts leads to other kinds of getting lost.

Since I’ve moved from a rural location to more suburban environs, I’ve been exploring more and more on my daily runs. Saying that Northern Virginia has changed over the past decade would be a gross understatement. I have gotten lost more often than not. A road that used to terminate into a T-intersection now continues for miles. Thus, I run for a few miles more. And then I have to run back. It has led to great fitness, and a little bit of stress. Thankfully no one has called in a missing persons report while I’ve been exercising.

As I roughly sketch out these jogs, I do consider running along the many subdivision ponds and interconnecting streams. While it is an unfortunate reality that most of these waters are overfished and probably poached, I’m always on the lookout for a possible secret spot.

One particular day I was running alongside an incredibly busy trail. Cyclists, walkers, and other joggers were everywhere. I’d been on the path dozens of times over the years, and a few times in the past month. This time, for some reason, I noticed a little pool for the first time.

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Last Cast of the Week, 8/12/2016

Most Fridays on Casting Across are  devoted to other people’s contributions in the fly fishing community. Articles, pictures, social media accounts, videos, podcasts, products, and more will be featured on The Last Cast of the Week.

Today, I’m sharing items from National Park Maps, Tightline Productions, and Lee Wulff Films.

If you’d like to be featured in the Last Cast of the Week, or have seen something that others might be interested in, use my contact form or shoot me an email (matthew[at]castingacross[dot]com).

Thanks again for reading, and please take a moment to subscribe by plugging your email address in the field on the right sidebar.

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Fishlympics 2016

Every four years the entire world comes together to experience the magic and pageantry of Nike, McDonald’s, and Coca-Cola commercials. In between these delightfully repetitious advertisements, the Olympics are on.

Some sports are awe inspiring. The things that swimmers, gymnasts, and sprinters do are uncanny. Air riflers, table tennisers, and speed walkers unite their countrymen in a collective “that’s a sport?”

Which leads us, as fly fishers, to ponder the question: what if fly fishing were in the Olympics?

Wonder no longer. Because I have inside information on what is coming down the line. Maybe to Tokyo in 2020. Maybe it is even happening right now, underground. Not just one fly fishing event, but five. So here it is, your very first look at the events that will feature athletic heroes the caliber of a Michael Phelps, an Usain Bolt, or an Erick Barrondo.

Split Shot Throw

Feats of strength impress anyone and everyone. Launching three or four BB-sized shot on a five weight without a tailing loop is a feat. Plus, this is what you want to stay tuned to if you’re all about the nasty crashes and exploding graphite.

Perfect for fans of: Shot Put / Hammer Throw

The favorite: Great Lakes tributary steelheaders have this one locked down. But there is an inner-team rivalry between NY, PA, OH, and MI.

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Trout Quixote. prologue.

I’ve always been intrigued with the idea that there are fish nearby. Probably like most anglers, or even avid nature lovers, my fascination begins with the reassuring knowledge that there exists an ecosystem that is functioning properly. And that I live close to it.

I even went so far as to try to make that happen for myself in a very significant way.

Currently I live in Virginia. Prior to coming back here, I had a home in New Hampshire. After the requisite months of looking at houses I was getting a bit jaded with the same old pro and con lists. An old furnace, but a great lot; a swampy backyard, but a clean and spacious living area. And then I stopped by the property that I would eventually buy. There was a stream in the backyard.

After touring the home and doing my best attempt at a thorough inspection, I went outside to look at the property. The creek was a moderately-paced, narrow little ditch that was much deeper than I expected from seeing photographs. And I immediately saw fish. I know now that most were dace and fallfish. That was all I caught in my years of tooling around the backyard. But on that day I could have sworn I saw trout.

It wasn’t out of the realm of possibility. The little stream flowed between two larger ponds that were connected to a larger river system. This river received at least two stockings from the New Hampshire Fish and Game Department. Trout could move around easily enough. Or, as I liked to fantasize, it was a native brook trout that somehow avoided the multitude of ecological calamities that the watershed had suffered over the past few hundred years.

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Last Cast of the Week, 8/5/2016

Most Fridays on Casting Across are  devoted to other people’s contributions in the fly fishing community. Articles, pictures, social media accounts, videos, podcasts, products, and more will be featured on The Last Cast of the Week.

Today, I’m sharing items from Smith Creek, New York Times, and MidCurrent.

If you’d like to be featured in the Last Cast of the Week, or have seen something that others might be interested in, use my contact form or shoot me an email (matthew[at]castingacross[dot]com).

Thanks again for reading, and please take a moment to subscribe by plugging your email address in the field on the right sidebar.

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42 Ways to Catch More Fish, Guaranteed

It is impossible to cast a three-weight around a magazine rack (or the digital equivalent) without hitting an article promising “X Many Tips to Slay More Fish!”

Who doesn’t want to slay more fish? Slaying, of course, is the whole point of this little fly fishing enterprise that we engage in. Even if slaying is metaphorical, and the fish will more than likely get released. To get slayed (slain?) again.

Let us all be honest. We all go for this kind of click bait. Put a number in a post title and the hits go up. (Even if it is ridiculous, hyperbolic, and satirical. Hmm…)

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Pop Fly: Fishing Imagery in the Minor Leagues

Fishing, particularly for the most avid members of the angling community, can feel somewhat insular most of the time. Blogs, expositions, stores, and even the sport itself occupy a relatively small corner of the “outdoors” niche.

Consequently, when imagery and concepts from our world make it into the public eye, it can be surprising. Everything from insurance agencies to beer labels to residential developments will enlist a trout or a fly for marketing purposes.

One of the more engaging and fun uses of angling in branding is in sports: minor league baseball in particular. Even if you are not a sports fan, there is a good chance that you have been to a minor league baseball game. A summertime staple of youth groups, little leagues, and community outings, the family-friendly atmosphere allows everyone to take in America’s pastime. Given, the pageantry, food, and promotions can sometimes outdraw the competition itself. But that isn’t a problem.

In fact, it is that very truth that makes it palatable for teams of grown men striving to make millions of dollars in the major leagues to wear uniforms emblazoned with biscuits, raccoons, or catfish. There is certainly a level of fun involved in the logos, uniforms, and identities of minor league baseball teams. Without the need to be menacing or intimidating, owners can utilize regional imagery to capitalize on the community’s interest.

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Last Cast of the Week, 7/29/2016

Most Fridays on Casting Across are  devoted to other people’s contributions in the fly fishing community. Articles, pictures, social media accounts, videos, podcasts, products, and more will be featured on The Last Cast of the Week.

Today, I’m sharing items from Tacky Fly Fishing, TU Teen Summit, and Trident Fly Fishing.

If you’d like to be featured in the Last Cast of the Week, or have seen something that others might be interested in, use my contact form or shoot me an email (matthew[at]castingacross[dot]com).

Thanks again for reading, and please take a moment to subscribe by plugging your email address in the field on the right sidebar.

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So About that Post

Last week I published “Gone Fishing: Skunk.” For those of you who have been following Casting Across for a few months, you might be aware that I post the Gone Fishing series from time to time. If you are uninitiated, these posts are photographs only. No words. No trademark wit. No wading through obtuse vocabulary.

And if I’m honest, these go up when I’m fishing and too busy to put together anything truly substantive. But art, right?

So came “Skunk.” I had a last-minute hall pass up on some spring creeks in southcentral PA. It was my first time back on these waters since my grand return to Northern Virginia, and I was ready to knock them dead. (Not really, all the creeks are catch and release.) On one hand, I was looking forward to sharing this trip down the ‘ol nostalgia river. On the other hand, I was happy to be fishing and decided I’d take the easy route by just throwing some pictures up for my Wednesday post.

Oh how we can speak of the best laid plans of wooly buggers and men…

So to start off the day I got stuck behind someone ordering two pepperoni pizzas at Sheetz. At 5:00am. Just go ahead and pick a problem with that situation. The MTO staff was frazzled. There was a customer that couldn’t figure out how to wait, and was laying his ‘tude on thicker than that early morning mozzarella. I finally left, Shmiscuit in hand, and ready to drive up to PA.

I did see four people fishing off a bridge over the Potomac with deep sea gear. They were fishing in about six feet of water. 50 feet up. That wasn’t really a frustration, but more of a weird omen.

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