OK. I’ll say it: We are sorry Buster really didn’t have as much 169% amazing content this week as yuo are prolly used to. Sure, the stuff we did mange to get up was laser, but… well… we been busy with… stuff…. stuff like fishing, creating badass BWTF stickers, drinking beer and watching hockey. But still, a week of Buster (not really totally) sucking (by a fucking longshot) is better than a month of “great days” at Da Lodge, FAOL, Das Klan or any other place you waste your time…

This is an open thread… Feel free, ladies…

Mofro - Dirt Floor Cracka

Uppity Mountain Hippies rejoice:

A pair of conservation bills that would protect the Snake River and Wyoming Range passed through the Senate Energy and Natural Resources Committee on Wednesday.

The Craig Thomas Snake Headwaters Legacy Act would protect 387 miles of rivers and streams in the Snake River drainage under the Wild and Scenic Rivers Act.

The Wyoming Range Legacy Act would prohibit further energy leasing in the Wyoming Range south of Jackson Hole and would allow conservation groups to buy and retire existing energy leases.

Both bills now must go to the floor for a vote by the full Senate before moving to the House.

The Snake River bill passed through the committee by a 12-10 vote almost one year after Jackson’s Jack Dennis testified in front of the committee in favor of the measure. It was originally introduced by Sen. Craig Thomas before his death.

The bill drew strong opposition from Sen. Larry Craig of Idaho.

Did anyone else see the “live debate” on “Costas Now” a few nights ago? You can watch it here. The topic was something like “sports blogs: should we murder bloggers in their beds or just hang them?” Featured panelists were Will Leitch of Deadspin, Braylon Edwards a wide receiver for the Cleveland Browns and Buzz Bissinger, the guy who wrote “Friday Night Lights.” Costas, the alleged moderator, begins the debate by declaring, “the reasonable criticism of sports blogs is the tone of gratuitous pot shots and mean spirited abuse.” Then it really gets good. Bissinger immediately flies into a rage, telling Leitch he is “full of shit” within the first 15 seconds. Read more »

Cousin Jay has been shanghai’d by those AEG bums. I hope they are treating him well.

Sometimes you can rescue those blurry fish pics by randomly mashing them through the preset filters until something cool happens. Or until you get bored and go away.

The same technique can be applied to blurry bugs.

And probably to small blurry children and pets.

It’s finally been posted: the ten greatest Polish American athletes OF ALL TIMES! As a Polak, I am gushing… (oh… and that’s a pic of the world’s largest kielbasa.)

9. Ethics

Nothing brings a fly fisherman to his knees, weeping hot tears of joy, better than an ethical debate. Endless amounts of message board bandwidth are devoted to arguing about what is ethical and what is not- strike indicators, wet fly v dry fly, jasper wraps on a new boo rod, do those gummy minnows count as flies?  

Having a personal sense of what is ethical and what is not is one of the core constitutional requirements of being a fly fisherman. More importantly, fly fishermen must argue, at great length and with much vigor, about minute details. You must be willing to take your personal opinion, not matter how untenable or ridiculous, and defend it against all comers. If you are unable to defend the idea, the ethically minded angler will resort to the true tools of the ethical argument: insults, name calling, inferences about spousal employment and derision.

For the new fishermen in the audience, here is a sample ethical argument:

The Ethical Angler: The only proper way to fly fish is dry fly, upstream to rising trout

Mouth Breathing Bank Ape: What about swinging streamers?

The Ethical Angler: Streamers, you might as well be bait fishing.

Mouth Breathing Bank Ape: What? That doesn’t even make sense.

The Ethical Angler: Not to you it wouldn’t; I bet you’ll occasionally eat a fish

Mouth Breathing Bank Ape: If it’s a stocker, sure

The Ethical Angler: See, you are no better than a bait fisherman. I bet you nymph, with a bobber

Mouth Breathing Bank Ape: Well yeah I nymph, Huh? What does that have to do with anything? You’re just an asshole

The Ethical Angler: Uppity Mountain Hippy

I remember it was still morning when we came to the collective conclusion that whiteys taste with their ass before putting anything in their mouth. However, considering ourselves scientists dedicated to rigorous research, we proceeded to nail this theory down into an airtight state, well into the afternoon. Nothing was hatching, so we happily wallowed in the ignoble sin of nymphing, relishing the plunging bobber, pulling up ass-hooked whitey hand over fist. And you know what? It was damn fun. Especially when lubricated with a rack of Hamm’s and the warmest day of a Spring that refuses to die. Kind of like fly fishing for bass, any of the trout pretension of pursuing something noble and aristocratic is just refreshingly laughable when one finally gives in to the whitey. And when a 20″er bends deep yer 5wt, far be it for me to find disappointment. Especially when the destination is the smoker on the back porch.

This one’s for you, Whitey.

Today, we salute you, Momofuko Ando, who in 1958 launched Nissin Foods and its main product, Top Ramen. Without you, guides would go hungry, dirtbaggers might actually have to learn how to cook something more complicated than boiling water and hangovers would last twice, twice!, as long. One can buy a week’s supply of your genius creation with the change found under the seat of the average truck, allowing anglers to spend their bills on hackle, dubbing, booze and “tips” at the Star Valley Cabaret.

Without you, we don’t know how we’d get by.

And right before they got air time on Sundance Channel.
More at this blog.
And clearance items here.

Face it. Bill Withers in an orange turtleneck is still smoother than you’ll ever be.
And? Best drummer ever.

moe. - Tambourine

Robot Chicken- Because after the Death Star was destroyed, somebody had to call the Emperor

Mmmm….noodles.

Is posting a youtuber called “Hitler Loves the Flyers” in bad taste? Prolly. Kinda. But this is playoff hockey we’re talking about here and after last night’s Red Wings SWEEP (too old? not tough enough? no goaltending? pffffft!)  of the Avalanche, we’re in such a good mood we’re willing to sacrifice godd taste. But just this once.

8. Red-haired girls in hip-boots

While they are known more for sex-tourism, bitter weeping and heading down to the basement to “tie a dozen stimmies,” there are some fly fishermen who enjoy the pleasures of female company. Their attention seems focused upon this image which points us (once again) to fly fishermen’s proclivity for unattainable fantasy, unrealistic expectations and delusions of grandeur.

The Sportsman’s Alliance For Alaska is running a benefit auction for Bristol Bay. Looks like they are running it rolling wave style, with new items going active for bids every two days or so. Already on the block are 3 lodge trips, rods and reels. Head on over to bid or to browse what is coming up soon for auction.

7. Shit-talking golf, NASCAR and the NBA.
It is well known that fly fishermen consider themselves superior beings engaged in a consecrated, holy act of communion between themselves and nature. What isn’t as well known is the level of disdain they hold for other sports, hobbies and past times that don’t include long drives, ridiculously expensive equipment and a massive ration of bald-face lying. This disdain manifests itself in the unlimited amount of shit talking fly fishermen do in regard to other activities.
While there are a few bewildered souls who attempt to serve two masters and take up both fly fishing and golf, for most anglers there is a long, deep seeded hatred for the game and the players. This is odd to the outside observer because both sports share a clubby whiteness, the air of wealth, the comfort of exclusivity and a bloated notion of “history.” Regardless of their obvious similarities, fly fishermen somehow consider golf a “rival” and refer to golfers as duffers, putt-putters and ballwashers.
Fly fishermen and especially “troutsmen” hold a special contempt for NASCAR. Indeed, it is a sport they truly love to hate. The thrill and joy a fly fishermen experiences when shit talking NASCAR is something to behold. Fly fishermen consider it a sport populated by appalling creatures the likes of hicks, the middle and lower classes, bait fishermen and those from the South. Even worse, NASCAR fans drink domestic beer!
Even though fly fishing is a sport with limited athletic requirements, fly fishermen will never admit that NASCAR is a “sport” — ever. Indeed, if a fly fisherman is not shit-talking NASCAR, he is not talking about it.
Fly fishermen need NASCAR, of course, it fills them with the sense of superiority that is their lifeblood.
Fly Fishermen are also openly contemptuous of the NBA. While most fly fishermen have actually never even seen an NBA game, it is rumored among the fly fishing community that there are actual minorities in the league.

Ever wonder why notorious water thief Donny Beaver is such a dick?

Doggonit.

Jack of all trades (master of none), close personal friend, West Seattle native and Alaska fishing pioneer G_Smolt has kicked off a new project. Alaska Fly Fishing Goods is the place to start if you are even thinking about fishing in AK.

So we’re gonna give some of their stuff away. Callers number 25 and 50 will each get a $20 gift certificate from AFG. You know the rules, no more than three comments per person, no comments twice in a row. I’ll do the counting.

Remember Alaska Fly Fishing Goods: Always Outnumbered But Never Out Gunned.

“All America lies at the end of the wilderness road, and our past is not a dead past, but still lives in us. Our forefathers had civilization inside themselves, the wild outside. We live in the civilization they created, but within us the wilderness still lingers. What they dreamed, we live, and what they lived, we dream.”

T.K. Whipple, Study Out The Land, University of California Press, 1943

Here’s a little jewel I stumbled across today. It’s a Buster favorite, Richmond Fontaine, performing in Amsterdam.

Recent scenes from the Snake:

Les Claypool wets his frizzle fry on the S. Fork of the Snake. Who knew?