Life. Fly Fishing. Low Country. Bourbon.

 

The Struggle Within. 06.20.14

I haven’t wrote an article in a while. Going back to school is tough. Going back to school with nothing but fishing on your mind is like a speed bump in a school zone with a speed limit of 15 mph. It’s hard that’s all I’m saying.

I consider I’ve had a good day when I survive the commute to and from charleston for class, get an hour workout in, see the ‘rents and get a few cast in before dark on the 16th hole. These fish are small, but they take bugs every time and give me the adrenaline rush I need to get by until I’m free for a high tide or a bonnethead trip to my favorite spots.

Still it’s hard to just get by with these little bass especially when you see friends post about their tarpon trip to the keys, or your buddy up in Montana that sends you snapchat pictures of streamer browns, or that one friend that has just recently become a guide in Colorado and spends each day on the river. Then there’s the St. Matthews boys that are killing the largemouths in ponds and on Santee. And if it’s not them it’s amberjack killing plugs on YouTube, LC teasing us with his amazing footage on Vimeo or Jeremy’s amazing pictures in the grass on charlestonfishing.com. I’ve wiped drool away from my mouth before while viewing Southern Fly Photography on Instagram. Speaking of Instagram, talk about being heart broken behind your desk as you scroll through the flyfishing hashtag.

Eventually, things play out. Until then though, the struggle is real.

The Struggle Within. 06.20.14

I haven’t wrote an article in a while. Going back to school is tough. Going back to school with nothing but fishing on your mind is like a speed bump in a school zone with a speed limit of 15 mph. It’s hard that’s all I’m saying.

I consider I’ve had a good day when I survive the commute to and from charleston for class, get an hour workout in, see the ‘rents and get a few cast in before dark on the 16th hole. These fish are small, but they take bugs every time and give me the adrenaline rush I need to get by until I’m free for a high tide or a bonnethead trip to my favorite spots.

Still it’s hard to just get by with these little bass especially when you see friends post about their tarpon trip to the keys, or your buddy up in Montana that sends you snapchat pictures of streamer browns, or that one friend that has just recently become a guide in Colorado and spends each day on the river. Then there’s the St. Matthews boys that are killing the largemouths in ponds and on Santee. And if it’s not them it’s amberjack killing plugs on YouTube, LC teasing us with his amazing footage on Vimeo or Jeremy’s amazing pictures in the grass on charlestonfishing.com. I’ve wiped drool away from my mouth before while viewing Southern Fly Photography on Instagram. Speaking of Instagram, talk about being heart broken behind your desk as you scroll through the flyfishing hashtag.

Eventually, things play out. Until then though, the struggle is real.

Cannot wait for the next one, whether it’s in my own state or somewhere abroad. If you haven’t, take a week out of your life and do a mission trip. The reward is indescribable. #missiontrip #puertorico

Cannot wait for the next one, whether it’s in my own state or somewhere abroad. If you haven’t, take a week out of your life and do a mission trip. The reward is indescribable. #missiontrip #puertorico

Three Day Stretch. 05/15/14

Over the last 3 days I had the privilege of poling a veterinarian, a trout guide from Breckenridge, CO, an ex Olympic Youth Fly Fishing Team member, and a Pennsylvanian who was visiting South Carolina for the first time around the waters of Edisto. Of the 3 different days on the water we managed 3 stingrays (two on the fly), 1 hookup with a tailing redfish that resulted in a breakoff and plenty of laughs. I took a solo trip in search of some low tide bonnetheads, while waiting on the guys to arrive at the marina, and managed to land and release my first on the fly. Old friends at Dockside helped to ease the sorrows and forget how slow it was. The 3 day stretch was tough, but when it’s spent with good friends, you can never go wrong.

Pig Wednesday. 04/24/14

Fished the incoming tide and found them tailing like it was the middle of summer. The fly barely hit the water but the line went tight. Met up with a Citadel buddy later that evening and fished until 11pm. A memorial day for sure.