Posts Tagged With: flashback friday

Flashback Friday: Snake in the Grass

(A couple of weeks ago I came across a blog post, complete with pictures, in which a rather lovely snake lost its life. I have a thing for reptiles with pretty patterns and I am a real early morning grouch so, of course, I left a sarcastic comment. I regret it now, not because I’ve changed my mind about killing snakes, but because the author of that post turns out to be a very nice woman with a wicked sense of humor who just happened to freak out and started swinging a shovel.

I understand now, having gone back to re-read that post several times, and I offer up this public apology to Mary, the owner of the blog OINKtales. The image of her protecting her brood, wildly swinging a shovel is kind of funny, but she lives not too far from Fish in a Barrel Pond and the last thing I need is for her to come after me. I’m sorry, Mary. Please don’t hit me with a shovel.)

To hear some people tell it, trout could not possibly survive without human intervention on their behalf. Unless something is done right now — according to these folks, anyway — Fish in a Barrel Pond will become a sterile, barren place, devoid of trout. Eagles, loons, osprey, mink, otters and who knows what else are bound to eat every fish in the pond, and not a day goes by that someone doesn’t suggest I “go out there and shoot them” before it’s too late.

Using a combination of questionable statistics, reckless extrapolation, hyperbole, smoke, and mirrors, they will make their case for the destruction of any potential threat to the trout that comes within half a mile of the place and I must, as politely as possible, remind them I will not go to jail for them and request that they immediately cease blowing smoke up my skirt. Continue reading

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Flashback Friday Double Haul: Who’s Your Daddy?

A tree fell last week (see “If a Tree Falls …”) and I showed that I can still stick a saw with the best of them. Ken G (from Waterdog Journal) wondered what it is about men that makes them continue an action, even when they can clearly see it’s not a good idea.

Mike (from Mike’s Gone Fishin’ … Again) could relate and expressed his love of power equipment.

Paul Cowell (from Paul’s Angling Journal) reminded me to keep plenty of gas in the saw, in case of zombies, and my post began take on a rather masculine air — at least until a comment appeared from a girl.

Girls who like chainsaws are okay by me, especially when they also fish and can write like Erin Block does on her blog Mysteries Internal. She has a way with words I … I … well, you know. After you’re done with this you really ought to go read her piece “The Dancing Cast“.

I am not surprised when I see a woman with a chainsaw but there was a time when such a thing was unheard of.

Homelite started marketing their saws to sportsmen, back in the days when clearing campsites and building log shelters were still acceptable practices. Even at only 19 pounds, I can’t imagine wanting to lug a chainsaw along on a camping trip, unless I was heading into zombie habitat, and I’m not so sure that anyone — man or woman — would actually look forward to running the thing.

That was more than half a century ago. Women didn’t run chainsaws. That was work for a man. An outdoors man. The kind of man girls really go for.

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A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to Flashback Friday

(Knowing which day of the week it is has a different significance to me than it does to most other working stiffs. I must keep track, somewhere in the back of my tiny mind, but other than to check which camps need to be made ready by 4:00 p.m. I don’t really need to know. As far as most members of the Neverwas Nonesuch Angling Society are concerned, my work week begins the moment of their arrival, no matter the day, so I labor while they recreate and what everyone else knows as Friday has become just another day of making beds.) 

Five light fixtures, a rake, a broom, a 5-foot chunk of 4x4, some rope, some stove wood, trash and laundry.

That is just my way of saying that, with the season underway at Fish in a Barrel Pond, Flashbacks can occur at any time.)

I must point out, now and then, that the Neverwas Nonesuch Angling Society and Fish in a Barrel Pond are figments of Quill Gordon’s imagination. I should further point out that Quill Gordon is also a figment. In other words, with the exception of gear reviews and nature writing, most of what appears in this blog is (mostly) fiction. The thing about fiction is that it must be believable and, with the good folks I associate with as an ever-flowing source of material and inspiration, if I were to share the stories of what I really see and hear you would think I was just making stuff up.

There are elements to certain stories we all can relate to. True or not, tales of young boys and large fish are near universal.

Even the goofiest anglers among us get lucky sometimes.

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Flashback Friday: Memorial Day Edition

The season is in full swing, here at Fish in a Barrel Pond, and lots of folks are up, celebrating Memorial Day by doing a little fishing. There was a time, though, when we were at war and there wasn’t a whole lot of fishing going on. In an effort to keep our hopes up during World War II, the state of Pennsylvania continued with its stocking programs, looking ahead to the promise of peace.

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Flashback Friday: The One That Got Away

My friend Owl Jones wrote a post the other day about fishing with barbed vs. non-barbed hooks. Actually, it wasn’t much of a vs. since the title was “Why you should fish with barbs”.

Personally, I pinch down the barbs on my flies because 98% of the trout I catch are released and the hook comes out much easier if there is no barb. The less time spent removing the hook, the better. A barbless hook is also much easier to remove from an ear lobe but we won’t get into that again. It was an accident and I said I was sorry, okay? Continue reading

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Flashback Friday: Opening Day!

Opening Day 1947

Opening Day 2011 dawned a tad bit cool and more than just a little breezy, and the members and guests of the Neverwas Nonesuch Angling Society reacted accordingly. Some searched out sheltered spots to cast while others trolled streamers, slapping their way through the chop on the upwind leg of their circuit. By breakfast, most had touched enough trout to have no problem not going back out but a few anglers, suffering from the delusion that nothing matters but numbers, couldn’t be bothered to come in even for coffee.  Continue reading

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Flashback Friday: Get On The Phone!

 

 It is hard to believe that there once was a time when we had to be reminded to use our phones. Of course, our telephones weighed 7 1/2 pounds in those days, were anchored to the wall and belonged to the one and only phone company in existence (“We don’t care. We don’t have to.”)

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Flashback Friday: Weasels Ripped My Flesh!

Weasels seem to have become a theme this week, so we’re sticking to it. First, a mink — nothing but a weasel with a fancy fur coat but a weasel none the less — managed to kill six of my chickens before succumbing to a case of high-velocity lead poisoning. Then, I managed to irk a very important man to the point he hopped and sputtered, just like a weasel, but he only got a ticket, and then I came across the “This Happened to Me” feature in the July, 1956 issue of Outdoor Life Magazine.

A pheasant hunter in Alberta came across a weasel, which climbed a fence post and leaped for the man’s throat!

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Flashback Friday: A Certain Type of Guy, Looking Good

I have heard it said that golf was invented to keep a certain type of person off the water. I have heard it the other way around, too, with fly fishing keeping a certain type of person off the links.

These two are evidently kept off both water and links by their fellow outdoorsmen. I don’t even know them and find them a bit irksome for some reason. 

Of course, it could be that they are the kind of guy who, even though he is not actually fishing or golfing right this minute, likes to look as if he could, at any minute, if he really wanted to. (Not that I would know anyone like that.)

Then again, maybe they just live in this part of Vermont where, even though trout season opens on State waters tomorrow, there ain’t much for a guy to do except stand around, fondling his rod.

Fish in a Barrel Pond April 7, 2011

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Flashback Friday: Great Moments in Literary History

Great Moments in Literary History #24: On this date in 1951, Ernest Hemingway caught a small trout and decided to not write about it.

(That, of course, is a marlin)

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