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Clean me.

It has been a while since I've suffered the displeasure of stinky waders. This is most likely because I don't get on the water as much as I'd like to these days, or that I've been finding a way to destroy my waders before I've owned them long enough to build up an odor. The reality for most of us, however, is that after a while waders begin to turn rank.

Earlier this year, upon boarding a Dehavilland Beaver -- cozy quarters for a five man float plane ride to a preposterously fishy salmon stream in the Tongass National Forest -- myself and the rest of the group I was fishing with received a rank waders warning from our guide for the day. As the doors closed and the cabin air immediately began to feel stagnant, we were warned of the impending doom. "Imagine that a wet sheep fell out of the sky and landed on an unsuspecting cat, who was was happily snacking on dead pink salmon. As a result, the cat pissed itself to death. The pair lay in a pile. Now imagine all this happened several weeks ago. Right here," as he motioned to his mid and lower torso area. The reality didn't turn out to be quite that bad, but at least we were prepared.

The culprit behind the malodorous stench that well-worn waders emit is bacteria. Even the best breathable waders eventually start to stink. And the reality is that the types of bacteria that can thrive in the warm, often moist environment inside your waders can do more damage than simply stinking up the place, they can cause some nasty infections. I've spoken with and read about many anglers that ended up with serious infections as a result of having worn bacteria-filled waders. The typical circumstances involve anglers donning their waders while having small, pre-existing cuts or abrasions on their legs or -- more commonly -- having fallen while wearing their waders and, despite the fact that the waders didn't puncture or tear, have broken the skin inside the waders. In these scenarios, bacteria living inside the waders are given an opportunity to enter the bloodstream.

Allen Fly Fishing Olympic Series Rod

It's very rare that we write about deals, but every once in a while, one comes along that's worth posting about. If you're in the market for a good two-hander spey or switch rod that won't break the bank, especially for those who are taking their first steps into the world of two-handers, Allen's well-received Olympic series of rods have been a good option since they were introduced in late 2011. At their normal price of $299-$319, these rods offer a great value. Currently, Allen is offering these rods at 40% off, making it even easier to take the plunge.

The reason for the move, some will be pleased to hear, is that Allen is moving the Olympic -- along with a number of other products -- from overseas to U.S.-based production. As part of preparation for the move, Allen is clearing out existing inventory.

The Gallatin Valley. Prime grizzly country.

Editor's note: This is the second part of a two-part series. If you haven't already read part I, please do so here.

The Trip (Continued)

July 10 – At last it was time to get to Livingston for real. I had a happy hour appointment at the Mint Bar with a dear friend, a room at the Murray Hotel, and enormous lust for dinner at the 2nd Street Bistro. First: a stop in Paradise Valley to wet a line in the Yellowstone River.

The water was still off color, but fishable. In the heat of the day between 1:30 and 4:30 p.m., I managed a slew of small rainbows, but nothing to write home about. My snobbish dry fly tendencies kept me from the biggies, but that was just fine. I was fishing a small dropper with it, but that wasn’t doing the trick, either.

The Murray and the 2nd Street Bistro didn’t disappoint. For the budget-minded, the Murray Bar offers up fantastic pizzas prepared in the 2nd Street Bistro kitchen.

Middle fork of the Salmon River near Ketchum, Idaho.

For more than 10 years now, I have travelled to eastern Idaho and south-central Montana chasing trout on the fly. It all started when I was exploring a relationship with Grand Targhee Resort and their music festivals. After receiving an invite to attend the Grand Targhee Bluegrass festival in 2003, it immediately occurred to me that I would be amongst some of the finest trout fishing in the lower 48. I needed to build in some time on the water.

Fast-forward one decade and the annual trip has burgeoned from six days to twelve. This year, for the first time, I decided to trade out the bluegrass festival at Targhee (the second weekend in August) in exchange for three more days on the water and a significantly different trout menu: namely, salmon flies.

What follows from this point on is detailed report on this year's trip. Planning these types of excursions, and especially trying to do so economically, can be a challenge. The goal of these trip reports, beyond that of my sharing my trip experience with others, is to provide a blow-by-blow look at the planning and execution. The hope is that, for those of you that are endeavoring the plan a similar trip for yourselves, these trip reports will serve as a helpful resource.

Palometa Club Permit

It's not often that you have a chance to win a free fishing trip by landing a fish, but that's exactly what's happening this year at the Palometa Club. The folks at the Palometa Club, a saltwater-junkie's dream destination on Mexico's Yucatan Peninsula, expect to log their 1,000th permit this year. To celebrate that momentous catch, they're planning to give the lucky angler who lands that fish a free return trip back to the club the following season.

Currently, the permit tally at the Palometa Club sits at 869. When the season opens in just a couple of weeks, on November 1, that number will begin climbing. The guides at the lodge are guessing that permit number 1,000 will likely come to hand sometime in April or May. Landing a permit is a momentous enough of an occasion on its own, but with a free trip on the line, there are bound to be some shaky arms and pounding hearts come springtime in the Yucatan.