Scenes from a hike: Pine Valley Ranch

Had the day off today so decided to waste only the first half of it binge watching garbage on Netflix. Then I drove out to Pine Valley Ranch for a three-mile hike. Fun fact: The river in these photos is one of the ones I was standing in last fall and fly fishing.

I can comply
Diving board?
South facing rocks
Water dripping on boulder
Don’t leave home without them.
Going down.

Fidgety fingers and internet addiction

I wrote the first drafts of my first three novels with pen on paper. I did it not because I’m in love with ink and notebooks, value them over all the wonders of modern technology. No, it was partly so I could focus, partly to force an extra round of self-editing. I’ve got nothing against computers. I think they’re wonderful. In fact, the most recent novel, the unpublished one, I wrote almost completely on a computer. Why? Seemed to make sense at the time. And the tone and style I was aiming for was punchier, shorter, so it felt okay.

But I might have to go back to pen and paper. For fiction at any rate. I’ve been working on a short story this week, in the morning hours before I sign on for work. The first half of it I wrote in a notebook. But I’ve typed that up and am forging ahead on the keyboard. This isn’t affecting the writing style or the tone.

But there is a matter of distraction. We all know we’re addicted to the interwebs, etc. And it mostly happens these days on our phone. You’re always looking at the thing, even on the toilet, even when you’ve got two other screens going. Even if you’re watching a commercial-free Netflix program.

And I’ve been embarrassed this week at my behavior. It’s not even that I NEED to check Twitter and Facebook every five minutes. I CAN walk away. (Sure, Ken. Sure you can.) But I noticed that every time I ended a paragraph or written thought and paused to figure out what would happen next, my hands almost automatically started the process of switching to a new tab. It didn’t even matter which tab. They just wanted to open something. My mind wanted to look at something. To keep things flowing into it. Disgusting.

I got that urge somewhat under control. Yes, it can be done. You simply have to put some effort into it. But just when I got the desktop urges under control, my hand went and grabbed the phone and opened Twitter–which is also open in one of those tabs on the desktop. Like I said. Embarrassing. And scary!

So it’s either back to the notebook. Or I sit on my hands between paragraphs.

A completely ridiculous glossary of fly fishing: Part 1

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If you, like me, are new to fly fishing, there are a few words that are crucial to your understanding of the sport. In fact, there appear to be anywhere from a few hundred to a few thousand of these words. And that’s simply for trout fishing in fresh-water rivers. These words don’t simply fall under the subject matter of “fishing.” No, we have words dealing with gear, hydrology, ichthyology, and with insect life both real and fake. Yes, we have a whole etymology of entomology.  

I work in digital media and marketing for a living, a field that loves to invent new words, bastardize old words, verb nouns, and visit a host of other sins on the language. But most of the words are as meaningless as the field. Misunderstanding a digital marketing word won’t get you killed. Hell, it won’t even get you laughed at because if you misuse one, chances are other people in the room either didn’t know what it meant in the first place or just assume the meaning has changed in the last half hour.  

But even if fly fishing seems overly complicated and ludicrous at times, the words fly fishers use actually mean something. You can find glossaries and text books and websites elsewhere, from the basic to the not-so-basic. I’ll leave it to the experts to give you the latin name of the Caddis fly, what its larval stage is called, and the approximately six million fly patterns based on it. I’m not even going to delve into the differences between the trout species. 

I’m new to all of this, so I can’t very well make you an expert if I’m still an idiot bumbling around in waders with the tags still on them. So I’ll give you a few key vocabulary words defined by my own experience and designed to give you just enough knowledge to start looking elsewhere before getting yourself seriously hurt.

Continue reading “A completely ridiculous glossary of fly fishing: Part 1”

Don’t skip leg day, bro

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To some of you, this is going to sound like a borderline insane question. 

Do you wash your whole body while showering? 

Normal, well-adjusted people who aren’t nasty are probably wondering, “Ken, what are you talking about? Of course. You get in the shower, let the water run over you and soap up your entire body for that fresh, clean feeling. EVERYONE does that.”

Apparently, everyone does not! 

According to more than a few tweet discussions I’ve seen on Twitter this year — and anecdotes from friends of friends — there are people who basically just skip their legs when showering. They reason that if their legs were covered by pants and did not sweat, then said legs are not dirty enough to require a full lathering. 

And it’s not Twitter. This behavior was the subject of a segment on the Today show!

I’ll admit that I’m not the cleanest person in the world. If it’s a cold winter day and I didn’t leave the house or if I just sat in an office all day, I might skip a whole damn shower. Or try to. When Cara cottons on to this, it turns into a whole thing. 

But when I do take a shower, I wash everything. Top to bottom. Including legs and feet, which, let’s be honest, are getting harder and harder to reach the older I get. 

So when I found out that there are people out there who skip entire regions, I was shocked. It was like finding out that Santa Clause isn’t real or that Natalie Imbruglia’s “Torn” is just a cover song.

Some of these leg-skippers claim to wash their naughty bits and feet as well. But do they? DO THEY? If they’re skipping a full third of the body, can we take them at their word that they’re soaping the sacks and cracks? I’m not so sure. 

Am I making too big a deal of this? Is this the wet wipe discussion all over again

Do you wash your entire body when you shower? Or are you a filthy leg-skipper? 

The curse of the fly fisherman

Peaceful. Except for all the cursing.

(This post is rated PG-13 for strong, but entirely appropriate, language).

You’re walking down a path running along a rushing mountain river when you hear a grunting up ahead. You pause. Maybe it’s a bear or a hog of some sort. Do they have hogs in the mountains? As you draw closer, you see a man wearing boots up to his chest, a hat jammed onto his head, polarized sunglasses. He’s bent over, in some sort of distress. Maybe the nine foot pole he’s grappling with has pierced his side. There’s a pair of hemostats on the ground, almost in the water. Nail clippers, too. He’s mumbling furiously.

Closer still, you make out what he’s saying. “You piece of shit. Come on you little son of a bitch.” Over and over, weaving in worse as he goes along, sounding like The Old Man from “A Christmas Story” fighting with his furnace — except you don’t need to use your imagination to figure out the words.

You’re looking at me on my first solo fly fishing excursion. 

Continue reading “The curse of the fly fisherman”