I do enjoy writing funny fly fishing stuff. To be honest, it is a lot harder than how-to and gear review writing. In large part, this is because people don’t have a good senses of humor. (Good senses of humor are defined, you see, as that which is relatively similar to the sense of humor that I possess.)

Often I resort to tried-and-true schemes: observational comedy, self-deprecation, and subverted expectations. I’m also not above using alliteration in an article title.

Like a good news headline from the 30’s, there is something inherently smile-inducing about an alliterative title. But again, maybe that is just me. It is me enough that I’ve apparently done it numerous times over the years here at Casting Across. I’ve picked three posts that fit this arbitrary criteria.

Read the three posts in full by clicking on the image or the article title, below:

BREAKING: Fish Photos Forge False Fulfillment

Take the extended-arm fish photo. Is there anything inherently wrong with it? No. Of course not. In fact, it is a great way to show off the fish and not the angler. No offense, but when I look at your fish pictures I am looking at the fish. Such pictures can be tastefully artsy or overly dramatic; purposefully funny or cringingly comical.

Will you see me in a lot of these pictures? No. It isn’t my thing. Unless it is a trophy fallfish. Then I let it fly.

Catastrophic Creek Circumstances: Curse? Coincidence?

What happened? Nothing too dangerous. I did lock my keys in the car, lose the felt off my waders, tear a gash in the side of a book, get stalked by two mountain creatures, and endure a handful of other less-than-desirable moments. It is hardly the Bermuda Triangle. But it is suspicious.

Why did I keep going back? That is a good question. But there is a simple answer:

Trout.

Bears. Bugs. Bows.

The whole point of the adventure was trout. Trout from this remote river. Hypothetically, with every mile we drove away from civilization we’d see less anglers. One thinks of these things. Not the lack of cell service. Not the roads unfit for compact sedans. Not the bears.

There are bears everywhere. That’s part of being outside.