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A Henry's Fork Story

Sometimes, when we aim for the heart, our arrow flies true
Henry's Fork

"Aim for the heart ..."

That’s good advice for elk and whitetails, and it also holds true for those of us who chase trout with a fly rod. If there really is a heart to American fly fishing - a physical location at the center of our sport - then it’s a wide spot in the road called Last Chance, Idaho. Assuming you’ve fished for a while, you’ve likely heard of Last Chance and the river that runs through it: the Henry’s Fork.

Tiger Trout

I think somewhere around half of my success as an angler is accidental. I'd like to think that I've built some skill over the years but the facts tell a different story. Daydreaming on the stream, I've watched my indicator swim away and then half-heartedly raised the rod tip and been rewarded with a fish too lazy to spit the hook. I've caught more fish on the dangle while searching my fly boxes than I care to admit. I've caught trout when I was fishing for bass and bass while fishing for trout. The catching seems like a random mystery but that's probably because that's what it is.

Sunday was supposed to be an afternoon on a big river with a small group of friends but for a variety of reasons I didn't get out the door at an hour reasonable enough to justify the drive. In the past I've driven two hours to fish for two hours so it's not as if doing something foolish is out of my comfort zone but on Sunday the mojo wasn't right. By the time I had my gear assembled the sun was heading for the hilltops and skeeters were buzzing like they do on a warm summer's evening.

I took my black lab, Ripley, with me to fish a small stream about five minutes from the house. She's a good girl who generally doesn't cause trouble but she does distract me so she usually stays at home when I’m fishing. But this was a lark so along she came. She stood next to me in calf deep water as I cast, seemingly confused at our purpose but reluctant to abandon me. She's a good team player.

The RIO Outbound Short Shooting Head saltwater fly line in clear/intermediate (1.5-2ips sink).

RIO's Outbound Short series of saltwater fly lines has some big fans. Our own Mike Sepelak reviewed the Outbound Short S3, proclaiming himself "hooked" on the line after only two outings. All the lines in the series are characterized by a short, aggressive front taper to cast big flies with ease.

RIO announced yesterday that it was expanding the series further by adding a selection of 16 shooting head lines. According to RIO, the new saltwater Outbound Short Shooting Heads have a "front-loaded weight distribution [that] quickly loads rods, while the step down taper at the back allows for very long flight times and easy distance."

DamNation producer and underwater photographer Matt Stoecker prepares to film Chinook salmon trapped below at the site of the since-removed Elwha Dam in Washington. (photo: Travis Rummel)

Since its release at the SXSW film and arts festival in March, DamNation has received a great many accolades and has been awarded several times. From Patagonia, Stoecker Ecological and Felt Soul Media -- the creators of other fishing-related documentaries such as Red Gold, Eastern Rises and Running Down the Man -- DamNation tells the story of the nation's aging, costly and ineffective dam infrastructure and the growing movement of river and habitat restoration through dam removal. On Thursday June 5, Patagonia will host a free screening of DamNation at 23 stores across the United States.

Screenings are scheduled in Patagonia retail stores in Atlanta, Austin, Boston, Boulder, Cardiff, Chicago LP, Denver, Freeport, ME, Georgetown, Palo Alto, Pasadena, Portland, OR, Reno, Salt Lake City, San Francisco, Santa Cruz, Santa Monica, Seattle, New York City, St. Paul, Ventura, Washington, D.C. and Westport. The screenings are free and open to the public.

A liquid drain opener bottle sits in the sargassum on South Padre Island.

There's a perfectly usable Weber kettle barbecue grill resting amid a modern-day midden heap on the beach ready for the taking--it's right around mile marker No. 4, just north of where the road out of town ends in a trashy dunescape on the Gulf side of South Padre Island.

Apparently, the folks who abandoned it didn't need it anymore. They also left a gently used camp chair and all of their garbage, presumably from a Memorial Day weekend on the island. They just bagged it up and decided they didn't have room in the truck to take it to a Dumpster in town. Since they left it, every raccoon and coyote and jackrabbit has pilfered through the refuse, creatively spreading it across the sand and sargassum. There's a motor oil bottle here. A six-pack ring there. Is that a bottle of liquid drain cleaner?

The only ingredient missing is the the weeping Indian standing atop a dune and surveying the makeshift landfill. There are apparently no consequences for litterers. No incentives to stop it. No precedent to follow. There is garbage everywhere. Not just a Coke can here or a stray water bottle there. It's everywhere.

And it's gross.

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