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I have a short piece in the latest issue of Eastern Fly Fishing on one of my kinda, sorta secret streams. Just a beautiful stretch of water. With carp.

Carp don't know much about history Eastern Fly Fishing magazine look away look away not Memphis There's carp in there writin'

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July, July

First, apologies to the great Tim O'Brien for ripping off the title of one of his novels.

July so far has not disappointed.

There were fireworks over the holiday weekend (sans fire, but a show nonetheless, at least from where I was sitting):

A visit from the infamous Miles from Meeeechigan to fish the hallowed waters of City Lake.

And a piece in The Drakeby yours truly about those same hallowed waters.

I'll count that as a good start to the month.

Feels like we're starting to get into a summer rhythm here. In any case, the carp are around and we're catching them more or less regularly. I'm sure the coming weeks will bring lower water levels and the usual cries of alarm from meteorologist types that we're breaking one drought-related record or another. Then fall will come and it will rain and everybody will calm down again.

God said we could fish here.

Not in so many words, but I think He was ok with it.

Looking upstream at Three Dollar Bridge on the Madison a few weeks ago. Sleeted on us all day. The sun showed up just long enough to throw this rainbow up through the clouds.

Non-anglers don't realize that fish are only part of the equation. Often the smallest part.

Firsts. Numbers one and two.

From last weekend:

BJ scored his first fly-caught carp:

And then followed that up with his first fly-caught catfish:

Mean Old Dirty is still doing work out here:

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