What in the heck am I talking about? If you have an over-active mind, as I do, you’ll figure it out pretty quick. If not, please allow me to explain. My brain never shuts up. From the minute I wake up to the minute I go to sleep, I’m constantly thinking about things that may, or may not have anything whatsoever to do with the task at hand. Like just then; as I was typing this first paragraph, I was thinking about a book I read several weeks ago. They, the thoughts, are constantly running around in the back of my mind reminding me of the semi-muted sounds of a radio emanating from another room. That’s how I landed upon the term semi-muted thoughts.
Each day, like most of you, I commute to and from work. It’s not your every day garden variety commute though. It is 65 miles round trip and goes through some of the least inhabited country in Texas. Due to the lack of traffic, my morning and afternoon drives allow me the opportunity to let my restless mind drift. Nine trips out of ten, it drifts to fly fishing. As you can imagine, this part of the world doesn’t lend itself well to the sport for several reasons. The first reason, and only one I will expound upon at this time, is water, or the lack thereof. There is a small park lake not far from my house and a few stock tanks in the county that I frequent. (That's right, I said stock tanks. They’re not ponds down here, they’re stock tanks. One does not have cows or horses in these parts. One has stock. And a tank, if not too leaky, can hold water no matter what matter it’s made of. Therefore, one waters one’s stock at a stock tank.) Other than that, I have at least a hundred miles to drive if I want to fish. With all that being said, I truly hope you can grasp the definition of a geographically challenged fly fisherman.
So now you have it; the gist of this blog. I’ll probably ramble. I know it will be about something related to fly fishing, or gripe about why living here sucks for a fly fisherman. But, from time to time I’ll try to drop something worthy in here about flies, fly rods, & fish; who tied 'em, who built 'em & who caught 'em. Who knows, I might even get good at it and actually have a following…
D
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