Tao 1

Tao can be talked about, but not the Eternal Tao.
Names can be named, but not the Eternal Name.

As the origin of heaven-and-earth, it is nameless:
As "the Mother" of all things. it is nameable.

So, as ever hidden, we should look at it's inner essence:
As always manifest, we should look at it's outer aspects.

These two flow from the same source, though diferently named;
And both are called mysteries.

The Mystery of mysteries is the Door of all essence.

Epic Steelie cures hangover

I had been working the Sandy off and on all winter, and had really only gotten into one hatchery fish, which was taken at Oxbow Park. At some point, my lack of success, and the bait chucking masses got the better of me and I had a meltdown. I posted my tales of woe to another forum, and came up with an invite from a guy that I had actually met previously to come up and fish the upper river with him. I, of course, graciously accepted. We ended up fishing the weekend of St. Patty's Day.
The morning of, I was a little off. We had been up late the night before drinking and talking Steelhead, so I was a little groggy, and I had a little headache going. Your basic hangover. There was also a strong upstream wind at the first spot we fished, and I was trying to acclimate myself to the floating mono running line I had rigged up the night before. I was finding it hard to maintain. Still, I soldiered on, fished the water completely, and then we retired for some breakfast. Dave had already taken one behind me, nymphing. Feeling a bit better after some steak, eggs, potatoes, and a spot of tea, we set out again. The second run he put me on was a dream. Slow green braids twisting around some choicely positioned boulders. If there was a fish anywhere, it was in there.
I started casting.
About ten casts in, I got tired of the dumbell eyes I was tossing and traded up in favor of a simple un-weighted Hoh Bo pattern. I resumed casting. After about about ten swings, and nine steps down, the line came tight. A second after the fish rolled on top, I heard Dave let out a deep "YEAH!!" from behind me. It was on. The first run was a killer, the fish took out at least 250 feet on me, waaaay into the backing before it finally quit. The rest as they say, is history. This is why I don't mind waiting two or three months between fish.

 

All photos by Dave Kilhefner.

Sammy Hagar is NOT OK!

I just want to get that out there right away. There is really no excuse for him, or his sound. The fact that his shit was actually released under the name "Van Halen" only compounds the issue. Seriously, what the fuck!? It's a huge problem.

The radio would actually be an alright place to hang out if it wasn't for Sammy Hagar. As it is you are constantly being ambushed by suck. You think you're getting Van Halen, and then you get this clown. It's fucking enough already!! For this reason, I have taken a vow. For the remainder of my days I must be, HAGAR FREE! No matter what the cost, I refuse to listen for more than the few seconds it takes to fly across the room and change the station, shut off, or destroy any device that would attempt to assault me. The time for gnashing teeth and wringing hands has passed. The time when grin and bear it was an acceptable answer has come and gone. This is not the place for tolerance. Because, at the end of the day, tolerance IS acceptance. And there can be no acceptance, for Sammy Hagar. Fuck him.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=t0j0xBfRasw