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beauregardlionett · 5 years ago

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Queens of Queens - Ch. 3

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He wasn’t surprised when he stepped into the apartment at the end of the afternoon to find his near completed bench painted. It wasn’t painted one solid color, but swirling with vibrant, haphazard patterns of paisley and geometric shapes, sprawling flowers and cartoonish faces. Caduceus didn’t search for them, but he was certain there was at least one overly detailed dick painted in there somewhere.

Sighing fondly, the Firbolg shut the door behind himself and meandered over to the stove to start on a pot of tea. Much like the bench in their living room, Caduceus’ roommate had taken the liberty of giving their kitchen quite the makeover after they moved in. The walls were an attractive shade of yellow, the cabinets neatly colored a striking blue and detailed with various shades of reds and pinks. Caduceus’ overflowing collection of plants on every surface served to only increase the homey nature of the little kitchen. It was easy for the Firbolg to go about his business comfortably, pulling down a pair of mugs as the kettle heated on the stove.

The water was just starting to boil and whistle in the kettle when his roommate came flouncing into the kitchenette, skirts flying.

“Caduceus!” the little blue Tiefling cheered, her accent ringing bright through every syllable. Wrapping herself around his arm, she beamed up at him in greeting. “Welcome back!”

“Afternoon, Jester,” Caduceus drawled, smiling down at her. “Would you like some tea?”

“Ooh!” Jester peered around his arm, violet eyes shimmering. “What flavor?”

“Hibiscus,” Caduceus said, pouring steaming water into two mugs (he already had Jester’s pulled down from the cabinet in anticipation). Dropping a pre-made tea bag in each, Caduceus handed her the sparkling pink mug with a serene smile.

“I finished making some of these before I closed up. They’re the flowers I tried fertilizing with Sprinkle’s droppings. I think they turned out pretty well.”

Jester took a tentative sip, careful of the temperature, before grinning up at him. She put her mug down so she could hop around a little without spilling any. Twirling in a circle, her deep green skirt whirled around her, wrapping around her legs as she paused.

“It tastes great, Caduceus! I’m so glad Sprinkle could help!”

“He did a magnificent job,” Caduceus acknowledged, leaning his hips back against the countertop to sip at his own mug. “The flowers grew very well, and the aroma is very bold. He’s a natural.”

Jester devolved into giggles, scooping up her own mug as she snagged a muffin from the tray they had left sitting out by the stove this morning. Her blue cheeks were tinged purple with her delight, and it warmed the Firbolg to see.

They had been rooming together for near a year, and any misconceptions they were a poor fit were laid to rest near immediately. They got on like a house on fire, and it shocked everyone involved. Caduceus had met Jester’s mother the day they moved in, and the lovely Tiefling woman had eyed him with open suspicion. Her concern about her daughter’s well-being had been clear. But they had spent all of fifteen minutes getting to know each other—with Jester’s determined reassurances that Caduceus would be a great roommate—before Marion had eased up.

Now he sent his most loyal customer monthly loads of calming, aromatic tea blends.

“I see you found the bench I made,” Caduceus commented, gesturing to the living room. “It’s very colorful.”

“I know I said I would ask,” Jester began, pouting as she ducked her head bashfully. “But it was just so plain, and I couldn’t help myself.”

“That’s quite alright,” Caduceus reassured her, smiling amicably. “I told the customer you would likely paint it, so they’re expecting it. I think they’ll love it.”

That got Jester to perk up again, her tail flicking with excitement behind her as she took a swift bite of her muffin. “You really think so?” Jester asked through the crumbs falling out of her mouth.

“They would be foolish not to,” Caduceus said, smiling as he took another sip of tea. “I’m going to drop it off tomorrow afternoon. Would you like to come along? I’m sure they would love to meet the artist.”

Jester nodded enthusiastically, muffin crumbs falling from her lips as she chewed a bite through a smile. Setting her treat aside with her tea, the little Tiefling darted off toward her room, calling over her shoulder.

“Let me grab my paints! I have some finishing touches to put on!”

Chuckling again, long fingers wrapped securely around his steaming mug, Caduceus followed her. Settling into one of their worn out chairs in the living room, the Firbolg was content to watch on as Jester reappeared with her paints and brushes to continue her work.

A few minutes into her work, Jester piped up, eyes never straying from her brush.

“Oh, Mama called while you were out. She said that some of her customers were asking about your tea blends and would you be able to send over some more sachets for her to sell?”

“Of course I can,” Caduceus agreed, barely giving it a thought. “Anything for my most loyal customer and sometimes employee.”

Jester giggled as she swirled her brush through a bright, obnoxious green. She never said it, but Caduceus knew that it meant a lot to her that he was so willing to let Marion do things like this. Jester had told him that her mother was a bit of a recluse, her social anxiety unlike anything he had ever seen. That Marion had come all the way to New York to help Jester move in had apparently been a huge deal.

They continued to pass the time in peaceful quiet, Jester humming to herself as she worked and Caduceus sipping away at his tea. The afternoon shadows stretched as the evening grew old, and Caduceus only moved to turn on some lights when he got up to start dinner for them. Jester joined him in the kitchen about halfway through the process, washing the paint off her hands before offering to help.

The evening passed with quiet reverence, the pair content to have dinner and chat about nothing in particular. As they were cleaning up, Jester glanced at the clock on the oven and made a noise of surprise.

“I didn’t realize it was so late! I need to get going if I’m going to finish my painting in time.” Caduceus watched the little Tiefling flit around the apartment, changing her clothes in her room and reemerging to throw her painting bag together as she also tried to tug her boots on at the same time.

“Have fun, be safe,” Caduceus called their usual farewell from the kitchen as Jester laced her boots while walking. “I’ll wait up for you.”

Halfway out the door, Jester shouted back, “I promise to be back before midnight this time!”

The door shut loudly behind her, leaving Caduceus chuckling as he settled in more comfortably with his tea and the bench drying nearby.

There was a window seat in their apartment, a little nook gifted by architecture and circumstance that Molly had taken to overstuffing with blankets and pillows. Yasha rarely paid the seat any mind unless it was storming; then she would curl up there and watch the rain against the window, tracing raindrops and just observing.

However, there were rare mornings after sleepless nights that Yasha sat there to watch the sunrise over the buildings across the street. She curled among the pillows and tangled with the blankets and watched the sky turn every shade of dawn and just breathed.

“Mornin’ Yasha,” Molly called as they stumbled blearily from their room. She didn’t acknowledge their greeting beyond a quiet look, but Molly didn’t seem to mind. They went about putting on a pot of coffee before trundling into the bathroom.

Yasha kept watch over the dawn as the smell of warm coffee wafted through the living room.

Over the next few minutes, Molly reemerged from the bathroom, poured them both a mug of steaming coffee, and obnoxiously tucked themselves into the limited space on the window seat across from Yasha. It was times like these that her roommate reminded her far too much of a cat. Despite herself, Yasha smirked into her mug and pulled her feet a little closer to her so that Molly had room.

“I’ve still got some tea from Caddy if you want to sleep later,” Molly said, solid red eyes trained out the window. Yasha knew they were doing that thing where they acted as casual as possible about the topics they never breached so that Yasha might feel more at ease. She loved them for it, and one day she might consider returning that thoughtfulness with actual answers, but the morning sky and the bitter coffee on her tongue were not lending to her speech. So Yasha shook her head and sent Molly a grateful look from behind the rim of her mug.

They seemed to understand and fell silent, watching the sunrise with Yasha for far longer than strictly necessary. Molly tried to get Yasha to smile by poking her legs with their chilled toes, wriggling to get them into the warm crease of Yasha’s knee even as she bat gently at their attempts.

She was smiling small and fond by the time they untucked their stiff limbs from the window seat, and it was victory enough for Molly. Neither of them were very adept at cooking, but they hadn’t fucked up eggs and toast so far. Molly, however, was on probation from the stove after an attempt at pasta had gone very wrong. They stood guard over the toaster as it did all the work and watched Yasha scramble a decent helping of eggs in a pan.

“Unrelated topic,” Molly drawled casually and Yasha slid a suspicious look their way. Her gaze was met with a cheeky grin and sparkling eyes. “Are you ever going to stop pining after Beau and actually talk to her?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Yasha said stiffly, her cheeks flushing in betrayal.

Molly cackled and swiped the toast from the toaster the second it popped up. “Right. I must have imagined all those besotted glances on your end. And all those times Beau has called you hot and talked about your eyes when she thinks I’m not listening.”

Yasha’s hand froze where she pushed the eggs around in the pan with intent. Looking over at Molly again, she wasn’t fooled at all by their casual attempt at putting spread on the toast.

“She talks about me?”

Yasha sounded far more timid than she intended to, and her tone drew Molly’s attention. Their teasing expression melted into something fond with a tinge of pity. She knew that they didn’t pity her, just her inability to read other people.

“Quite a bit, honestly,” Molly said, casual but sincere. “Gets rather annoying, to be truthful, but she seems very attracted to you. You’re both just too much of a disaster to notice.”

Yasha frowned at them, and Molly reached over to pat her shoulder.

“I say that with all the love in my heart, of course.”

Yasha sighed and went back to their eggs, thoughts now otherwise occupied by a certain someone.

Molly let the topic drop after that. Instead, they turned to more mundane conversation about random things in the news and happenings in the bar from the night before. Yasha was content to listen and add commentary now and then, and the dynamic was familiar.

Cleaning up their dishes when they were finished, Yasha yawned into her hand and shook her head, trying to banish her fatigue. It always seemed to creep up on her after sleepless nights once she had eaten something. Molly’s hands gently removed the dishtowel from her grasp and they gave her a little nudge toward her bedroom.

“Get some sleep, Yash,” Molly ordered quietly. “We’ve got work tonight, and you need a nap at the very least.”

“Fine, fine,” Yasha grumbled, waving over her shoulder in response to Molly’s saccharine call for her to have sweet dreams. She bundled herself up beneath a thin blanket and fell asleep staring at the faded picture on her nightstand.

“Gigi, I swear! If you took my vest to bedazzle it again, I will shred your makeup brushes!” Beau yelled, storming through the bar with her shirt buttoned haphazardly. She had checked her bag and her locker, but her signature waistcoat for bartending was nowhere to be found. Beau knew she packed it before leaving the apartment, too; so it was here somewhere.

“I don’t have it!” Gigi trilled from the queens’ dressing room, all but pressed up against the mirror as she adhered fake eyelashes the length of her finger to her lids. “Ask Dotty! She went into the locker room for something earlier.”

Said queen turned from another mirror, lipstick only half applied, and blinked innocently at Beau. She didn’t buy it for a second and leveled an unimpressed glare with the queen.

“Fine,” Dotty groaned, setting aside the tube of neon lipstick and producing Beau’s unharmed vest from her overflowing bag. “I was going to cover it in glitter. What are you even doing here so early? I thought Yasha was bouncing tonight.”

“She is,” Beau said, brushing a few stray feathers from her waistcoat before shrugging it on with haste. “Molly wants me behind the bar again since Veth has only worked weeknights by herself so far. I was at the dojo when they called.”

From the other side of the dressing room, Amber looked up, heavily made-up eyes narrowing in Beau’s direction. With a gusty sigh, she stood and tossed her cell onto the counter before striding over to Beau. The queen shooed Beau’s fumbling fingers away from her buttons and took over, smoothing out the button up and adjusting the rumpled fabric first. She then tugged Beau’s waistcoat into order over her shoulders and deftly fastened the buttons on that, too.

Beau knew better than to protest like she would with anyone else. Amber was the oldest of their regular queens and very much fulfilled the role of “mom friend”. No one protested Amber’s fussing and got away with it.

“You work too much,” Amber said casually as her manicured fingers fixed Beau’s shirt collar with practiced ease. “Molly could have called Desmond in to help Veth.”

“Yeah, well, they called me. I think Desmond’s got a hot date or something—about time. Either way, I don’t mind it. I was done with classes anyway when they called.”

“Still,” Amber said as she admired her handiwork with an approving nod. “You’re here every weekend, as far as I’m aware, after working every other night of the week at that dojo and attending classes. You’re going to burn out, Beau. Molly’s a hardass, but they’ll give you a night off if you ask for it.”

Beau just shrugged, flashing Amber a grateful look. She tugged her hair free of the messy bun it was in and started to re-do the style, fingers running through her tangled length of hair. It was an avoidance tactic, not wanting to tell the queens that if she had a night off, she would just spend it getting drunk alone in her apartment. It wasn’t exactly a glamorous admission, so Beau deftly whirled her hair into a tight, secure bun and changed the topic.

“Is it just you three performing tonight?”

“Ophelia’s also got a hot date,” Amber chuckled, moving back to her phone to type out a quick text. “None of the others could come in on short notice, and Molly’s fine with us running an extra number or two to fill the time.”

Beau huffed a quick laugh and stole a glance in one mirror to make sure she had gotten all her hair up. Satisfied with her appearance, Beau waved to the queens and ducked out the door with a call of thanks over her shoulder.

They had about an hour before the show was due to start, and Veth was already wearing her mask and set up behind the bar on her stool. The crowd had yet to roll in, so the bar was near empty. Music played quietly from the speakers as the meager late dinner crowd finished up their meals.

As Beau made her way over to the bar, the front door swung open and the vaguely familiar form of Caduceus ducked into the bar. She knew the Firbolg superficially as Molly’s somewhat business partner. Beau wasn’t sure what it was they did business over; she just knew it involved plants.

Ducking in after Caduceus was an unfamiliar figure, carrying a decent-sized, colorfully painted bench on one shoulder. The sight was rather something, because the little blue Tiefling hauling the bench around like it weighed nothing wore an oversized cream-colored sweater and bright pink skirt, grinning cheerfully. Blue hair styled sweetly and violet eyes sparkling as she took in the bar, the Tiefling turned to Caduceus and said something with obvious excitement, the Firbolg smiling back and nodding.

“Hey Cad,” Beau called as she approached the pair. “Looks like you’ve got the bench for Veth.”

“Indeed,” Caduceus drawled pleasantly. “Apologies that I didn’t get it here yesterday, but Jester wanted to finish painting it.”

“And you’re Jester?” Beau asked, turning her gaze to the Tiefling, who was still beaming.

“Yep!” Jester chirped, heavily accented voice bright and saccharine. “It’s nice to meet you. Where should I put this?”

Beau took a moment to admire the way Jester had yet to break a sweat while holding the bench before pointing behind the bar.

“That’s Veth on the stool there. You can get it set up against the counter. Need any help?”

“Nope!” Jester waved Beau’s offer away amicably. “I’ve got it!”

Beau watched Jester flounce over to the bar with more ease than Beau would have thought possible. She watched Veth blink over the bar at Jester’s enthusiastic greeting. Though Beau could only see the Halfling’s eyes, she saw the exact moment the motherly fondness took over.

“She’s my roommate,” Caduceus’ timbre drew Beau’s attention back to him. “Since you were wondering.”

Beau distinctly recalled not voicing that question out loud, but she had learned after a few conversations with the guy to not get into it. He was scarily perceptive and had a tendency to answer questions before being asked. Molly and their attempt at fortune telling could only hope to be so in tune. They had tried their hand at it a month or two ago, and while they embellished the readings enough to fool a few people, Beau saw through it entirely. She was very familiar with the way Molly kept their bullshit just vague enough to be passable.

“It’s colorful,” Beau commented, watching as Veth dragged her stool back around to the outside of the bar so Jester could set the bench down and get it into place.

“Yeah,” Caduceus agreed with a hint of pride in his tone. “She’s a great artist, you know. Paints all over the city.”

Beau took a moment to wonder why she hadn’t heard of such a famous artist before remembering that she wasn’t exactly an astute member of the art community. She shrugged and nodded in reply, finding nothing else to say. Caduceus—to his credit—didn’t seem to mind her silence and instead turned his attention to observing the rest of the bar. Beau stood with him for another few moments before making her way to Veth and Jester.

“How’s it feel?” Jester asked Veth eagerly as the Halfling climbed atop the sturdy new bench. “Do you like it?”

“It’s very nice,” Veth’s pitched voice came from behind the mask, sounding satisfied. “I can walk the length of the bar now, too.”

Peering over the bar top, Beau nodded approvingly. It was wide enough for Veth to traverse back and forth safely, but not so wide that Beau and Desmond would have to stretch uncomfortably to grab things on the counter. Caduceus had done a good job with it, and the paintings were rather detailed and unique.

“Is that flower supposed to look like a dick?” Beau asked, pointing at the curved, colorful flora painted across the top of the bench.

Jester’s delighted laughter was answer enough and Beau decided rather quickly that she liked this Jester girl. Judging from the look in Veth’s eyes, Beau figured the Halfling woman had come to the same conclusion.

“Oh! Caddy you brought it!” Molly’s voice sounded from across the bar. A glance over her shoulder showed Beau that Molly and Yasha had emerged from the door near the back that lead up to their apartment above the bar. Beau had exactly three seconds to admire Yasha’s fitted top before Molly swept up to the bar beside her and stole her attention back to the current conversation.

Molly, with elbows locked as they leaned up and over the bar top to stare delighted at the bench, grinned with glee at the Firbolg.

“This is perfect! What do I owe you for it?”

“Nothing,” Caduceus waved the query away as Molly dropped back down to the floor. “Our partnership is more than enough. I’m just glad I could help.”

Molly simpered a look at Caduceus and moved to wrap around his arm, looking like an overlarge child clinging to their parent. Beau tried and failed to hide a snort behind her hand, earning herself a middle finger from Molly.

“You’re too kind to me, Cad,” Molly said, sounding far too sincere for how childish they looked. “At least let me offer you food or drinks on the house. Aren’t ya always talkin’ about how feeding your friends is an act of love?”

“That’s fair, I suppose,” Caduceus chuckled, giving Molly a gentle pat on the back. “Though, Jester helped, too.”

Said Tiefling’s head popped up from where she had been giggling about something on the bench with Veth. Given Veth’s prickly reception of Beau and the other employees, Beau found herself a little surprised that the Halfling woman seemed so at ease with Jester already. But the blue Tiefling threw a sweet grin to Molly, and they practically melted on the spot. So Beau was seeing a pattern here.

“Do you have any pastries?” Jester asked eagerly, leaning against the counter, eyes sparkling.

“Not at all,” Molly said cheerfully, coming over to the bar to grab Jester’s hands before she could pout too much. “But you’re so positively adorable, I’ll make sure we get some just for you.”

Beau shook her head with an amused quirk of her lips as Molly lead Jester into the kitchen, the pair chatting amicably as they went. Caduceus leaned over the far end of the bar to look down at the bench and ask Veth a few more questions about how it felt, if it needed adjusting, or anything extra added on.

Elbows propped on the bar, Beau fought against a yawn and failed, ending up muffling it against her shoulder as her eyes watered with the force of it. She groaned to herself, mentally calculating how many hours she had left until she could go to sleep.

“You seem tired,” Yasha’s quiet voice spoke up from beside Beau, startling her.

“Jesus, you’re quiet,” Beau hissed, turning to look at the other woman. She spoke up again before Yasha could apologize or comment on Beau’s jumpiness, hurrying from one sentence to the next. “It’s fine, I’m always tired.”

Yasha’s eyes narrowed slightly at her, not maliciously, but still leaving Beau feeling just a little too fidgety.

“You weren’t on the schedule tonight.”

“Nah, Desmond called out for a date. I don’t mind, though. Not like I had plans,” Beau said easily, like she wasn’t fighting bone deep exhaustion after a grueling week of classes in the dojo and at school. Rolling her neck to hear it give a satisfying pop, she sighed and flicked a look at Yasha, who was still watching Beau.

“I’m behind the bar with Veth tonight,” Beau said, just to fill the quiet. She hated being stared at like that, even if it was Yasha. “So you’re on your own at the front. But let me know if you need help, yeah? I think Veth could manage on her own for a few minutes if you need me.”

Yasha opened her mouth, hesitated, closed her mouth and chewed at her lip for a brief second before just nodding. Beau watched her push off the bar and head out front, hands buried deep in the pockets of her signature jacket. She wasn’t sure what Yasha had been about to say, but it left Beau wondering with a fierce desire to chase after her and make Yasha say it. But things like that had never worked on the other woman, so Beau heaved a sigh and moved around to the back of the bar.

Something in her gut told her it would be a long night.

#writing #my writing #qoq #cr #critical role #m9 #the mighty nein #caduceus clay #jester lavorre #mollymauk #yasha #beauregard lionett #veth brenatto #nott the brave

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thefeatherbender · 2 months ago

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Alpha Caddis

A lovely little Caddis with three nice techniques for the body, wing and hackle. This pattern can be used for any of the smaller caddis species. Fish it dry or as an emerger bith work extremely well. How to tie Alpha Caddis Alpha Caddis pattern recipe Hook: Mustad Heritage R50AP # 14-18 Tying thread: Sheer 14/0 Grey Body: Two moose mane hairs, brown and black Wings: Two CDC…

#Barry Ord Clarke flies #Caddis fly patterns #Deer hair flies

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mtfishtales · 5 months ago

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MASTER MISSOULA’S WATERS: THE FLY PATTERNS EVERY ANGLER SHOULD KNOW

Missoula, Montana, is a haven for fishermen and is popularly known for its unmatched fishing experience amidst breathtaking mountain scenery. Whether you're casting your line in the Bitterroot or wading into the Clark Fork, the secret to success is preparation. Selecting the right fly pattern is one of the most essential aspects of that preparation. By matching the local hatches and learning the water's rhythms, you can greatly increase your chances of catching trout and to fully master these waters, it's a good idea to rely on the expertise of Missoula Montana fly fishing guides. They can help you choose the appropriate fly for each season as well as navigate the rivers.

Here are some must-have fly patterns that fly fishing guides recommend:

THE CLASSICS: MUST-HAVE FLY PATTERNS

PARACHUTE ADAMS: The Parachute Adams is a versatile dry fly that can effectively imitate a variety of mayflies. It is especially helpful when Blue Winged Olives hatch in the early spring and late fall. Sizes 14-18 are the ones commonly used.

PHESANT TAIL NYMPH: This is one of the essential nymph patterns for subsurface fishing. It mimics a variety of mayfly nymphs and works all year long. The best sizes used are 14-18.

WOOLLY BUGGER: The Wooly Bugger is a multipurpose streamer that is used to represent leeches, baitfish, or large nymphs. It works especially well in sizes 6-10 and in olive or black hues.

ELK HAIR CADDIS: This dry fly is used during caddis hatches, which are prevalent from late spring to summer. Tan or olive patterns in sizes 14-16 are suitable.

ZEBRA MIDGE: The Zebra Midge is a simple yet effective pattern that works well for imitating midge pupae. It is mostly helpful in winter and tailwaters. Sizes 18-22 are advised.

PAT'S RUBBER LEGS: Also known as "Girdle Bug,” this stonefly nymph imitation works well in the early summer and spring when stoneflies are active. Brown or black in sizes 8-12 are commonly used.

SAN JUAN WORM: The San Juan Worm can be very effective despite being simple, particularly when worms are washed into the river during or after rain. Red or pink in sizes 12-14 are popular options.

WHEN AND WHERE TO USE THEM

Selecting the right fly requires knowledge of Missoula's rivers and seasons. To take advantage of the trout feeding below the surface in the spring, concentrate on nymphs and streamers. During summers, dry flies enter the game, providing excellent topwater opportunities. On the contrary, fall is a great time of year for anglers on this famous river and is perfect for terrestrial species like grasshoppers.

Brush up on these fly patterns and let Missoula's river enthrall you. MT Fishtales’ experts will be your Missoula Montana fly fishing guides for capturing lifelong memories. Go to https://mtfishtales.com/ and book your Missoula fishing trip today!

#Missoula Montana fly fishing guides

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emrldwtranglers · 5 years ago

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June 7, 2020 - Sing it, “Whoohoo, We’re Oooopen Again!” Wish we could say this has been and easy time, obviously it hasn’t been at all but the world continues to rotate and we continue to evolve while spinning with it. We understand how much being on the water means to everyone’s psyche and as we always say, we are quite simply here to help you learn, have fun, grow and find success out there. We as always, greatly appreciate the support everyone provides us, we love being here for you. We would also like to applaud and thank all the demonstrators who showed up in the Junction yesterday, voicing the need for change and doing so meaningfully...in mass and peacefully. We truly are stronger together. At this moment fishing around the greater Seattle area which we consider 3 hours driving time is pretty darn good, all things considered. So here is the run down: Yakima flows are about where they should be considering where we are in the season and with our snow pack. Caddis are abound and our wonderfully fickle trout are paying more concerted attention them and should from here forward. Still seeing some Yellow Sally stoneflies and a few March Brown mayflies around the upper river and streamer fishing will definitely get some fish to move. Trout spey, use that long rod to skitter some caddis down river of yourself, even riffle hitch that little Elk Hair so it stays on top as it comes across. Don’t know how to do that, drop by and we will show you. Puget Sound is filled with lettuce so don’t worry about packing a lunch! Intermediate lines can help with this by getting your fly below what is suspended on the surface and you will absolutely want/need a stripping basket for this time of year and we have 4 to choose from if you don’t have one. Baitfish are growing in size so have larger profile flies on hand and trim if need be. Hood Canal has been seeing an increase in resident Coho activity and more cutthroat showing themselves as well. Try to fish an out going tide as often as possible. As a tide comes in, it doesn’t necessarily bring the kelp to you but rather lifts is back up into the water column from its resting point on the beach. So if you have to fish an incoming, scout the beach a bit and if there isn’t a ton of kelp on it, likely have less to contend with as the tide floods. Mountain creeks are mostly going to remain pretty high for a bit longer but following cooler days and evenings, you may be able to find some slightly lower water. We don’t typically do anything but dry fly in these watersheds so larger stimulators are one of our favorites. If you want to drop a little Copper John or Hare’s Ear off the back, by all means do so but these trout have a short feeding season so they will be pretty opportunistic. Caddis, attractor patterns and if you want, small streamers will do great, especially in another couple weeks. Cedar River remains a bit high and BUSY but that is because it is a great little urban river to explore with quite a lot of public access. We really like fishing streamers against the log jams. Some evening dry fly activity for those able to stay out late, use some caddis and finally Chubby Chernobyl with a dropper through shallower riffle water will likely move a few fish as well. In other words, enact your favorite tactic and get after it! Lakes are fishing well for trout and bass. Some high alpine ones will remain mostly frozen so stay lower for now and for the warmwater species, surface poppers, frogs and baby duck patterns are the ticket! These are so under appreciated in our area, we are going to spend considerable time getting people up to speed on how to and where to fish here locally for them so stay tuned. Steelhead rivers here in Puget Sound are open again and at the moment are at a fantastic flow for swinging some flies. This can be a very good time to be on these rivers. Water will still be sort of cold and have some color so don’t completely abandon your winter tactics but maybe go not as heavy on your tip, T7 or Intermediate would be great and go/stay smaller on your fly. This is just our recommendation, as everyone knows this is maybe the most subjective space in fly fishing so take our 40 years of swinging flies with however many grains of salt you like. Have fun out there, stay healthy and respect one another on the water, its for all of us to enjoy.

#Emerald Water Anglers #Seattle fly fishing reports #washington fly fishing #swinging flies #steelhead fly fishing #seattle fly shop #Seattle fly fishing guides #Puget Sound Fly Fishing #Yakima River fly fishing #Cedar River #optoutside #loveourplanet #Dave McCoy Photography #keepemwet #women fly fishing

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lifeinspirations · 4 years ago

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Top 50 Quotes About Growth And Change (Become Unstoppable. Rise Above)

Life is unpredictable. Life's uncertain. Having to go through new terrains is not easy. In fact it's scarily difficult.

And during these times we all need some kind of upliftment. Some kind of boost. Whether internal or external. With the world we live in today going through so much turmoil, destruction and devastation, its often hard to find some kind of positivity.

So with this in mind we have made it our duty to light up your day with some of our favorite Quotes About Growth And Change.

In fact we've decided to collect our Top 50 quotes to help bring some positivity back during these negative times.

They always say time changes things, but you actually have to change them yourself. ― Andy Warhol, The Philosophy of Andy Warhol

Those who cannot change their minds cannot change anything.― George Bernard Shaw

Stepping onto a brand-new path is difficult, but not more difficult than remaining in a situation, which is not nurturing to the whole woman. ― Maya Angelou

I alone cannot change the world, but I can cast a stone across the waters to create many ripples. ― Mother Teresa

Destiny is not a matter of chance; it is a matter of choice. It is not a thing to be waited for, it is a thing to be achieved.― William Jennings Bryan

Pеrѕоnаl grоwth is imроrtаnt in аll оf life's stages. Yоu nееd to kеер growing tо deal еffесtivеlу with others. ― James Stafford

To practice any art, no matter how well or badly, is a way to make your soul grow. So do it. ― Kurt Vonnegut

Be not afraid of growing, be afraid of standing still ― Chinese Proverb

Experience is what you get when you don't get want you want ― Dan Stanford

Always realize that you can get better. Your best work has not been done yet ― Les Brown

In difficult times, we're not supposed to quit believing; we're not supposed to quit growing ― Joel Osteen

... retirement is a time for personal growth, which becomes the path to greater personal freedom. ― Mark Evan Chimskey

Productivity is considered a key source of economic growth and benefit. I would say the key to success. ― Lorena Katz

You cannot grow unless you are willing to change. And you will not change unless you change something you do every day ― John Maxwell

Obstacles can be your launching point to propel you to attain new personal growth, or to gain valuable experiences. ― Byron Pulsifer

Personal growth and family time are essential, for a life devoid of love and laughter is a life wasted. ― Ross Wilson

The spirit of self-help is the root of all genuine growth in the individual…. ― Samuel Smiles

Can you imagine what a pessimist who lived only 200 years ago would think about the world we live in? Airplanes, electricity, automobiles, television, remote controls, the Internet, fax machines, telephones, cellular phones, and so on - and all available to us because of that spark of open-mindedness that allowed progress, growth, and creativity to flourish. ― Wayne Dyer

Those with a growth mindset believe intelligence changes, so it's not as tightly bound up into your sense of self. ― Jonathan Harnum

Acceptance is the key. As you learn to accept her emotions, you may learn to accept your own. ― John Guttman

Each choice, the branch of a tree is: what looked like a decision, is after only a pattern of growth ― Yoda

If you expect your kids to get better then you should apply the same thought process to yourself. Children will improve if you as a parent model that growth for them. ― Milton Stewart

Those who improve with age embrace the power of personal growth and personal achievement and begin to replace youth with wisdom, innocence with understanding, and lack of purpose with self-actualization. - Bo Bennet

The more connected we are to our emotions and thoughts, the more prepared we are to experience growth and personal development. We are better equipped to identify our dreams, passions, and fears, and the things that need change. ― Brett Blumenthal

In the realm of personal growth, there is also the continuous learning that occurs in your own control of your own destiny. ― Byron Pulsifer

Things alter for the worse spontaneously, if they be not altered for the better designedly. – Francis Bacon

All the evidence that we have indicates that it is reasonable to assume in practically every human being, and certainly in almost every newborn baby, that there is an active will toward health, an impulse towards growth, or towards the actualization. – Abraham Maslow

We can't become what we need to be by remaining what we are. - Oprah Winfrey

If there is no struggle, there is no progress. - Frederick Douglass

Just don't give up trying to do what you really want to do. Where there is love and inspiration, I don't think you can go wrong. - Ella Fitzgerald

Incredible change happens in your life when you decide to take control of what you have power over instead of craving control over what you don't. - Steve Maraboli

Things change. And friends leave. Life doesn’t stop for anybody. — Stephen Chobsky

The world as we have created it is a process of our thinking. It cannot be changed without changing our thinking. — Albert Einstein

Life is a series of natural and spontaneous changes. Don’t resist them; that only creates sorrow. Let reality be reality. Let things flow naturally forward in whatever way they like. — Lao Tzu

If you can’t fly, then run. If you can’t run, then walk. If you can’t walk, then crawl. But whatever you do, you have to keep moving forward -Martin Luther King Jr.

Change will not come if we wait for some other person or some other time. We are the ones we’ve been waiting for. We are the change that we seek. -Barack Obama

Every day the clock resets. Your wins don't matter. Your failures don't matter. Don't stress on what was, fight for what could be. -Sean Higgins

Keep your face to the sunshine and you cannot see a shadow. -Helen Keller

You build on failure. You use it as a stepping stone. Close the door on the past. You don't try to forget the mistakes, but you don't dwell on it. You don't let it have any of your energy, or any of your time, or any of your space. -Johnny Cash

Times and conditions change so rapidly that we must keep our aim constantly focused on the future. -Walt Disney

Every great dream begins with a dreamer. Always remember, you have within you the strength, the patience, and the passion to reach for the stars to change the world. - Harriet Tubman

A soul without a high aim is like a ship without a rudder. – Eileen Caddy

A successful man is one who can lay a firm foundation with the bricks others have thrown at him. – David Brinkley

Age is no guarantee of maturity. – Lawana Blackwell

Develop a passion for learning. If you do, you will never cease to grow. – Anthony J. D’Angelo

Becoming isn’t about arriving somewhere or achieving a certain aim. I see it instead as forward motion, a means of evolving, a way to reach continuously toward a better self. The journey doesn’t end. – Michelle Obama

Every problem is a gift — without problems we would not grow. – Anthony Robbins

Mistakes are the growing pains of wisdom. – William George Jordan

I do not know the word ‘quit.’ Either I never did, or I have abolished it. — Susan Butcher

I do not think there is any other quality so essential to success of any kind as the quality of perseverance. It overcomes almost everything, even nature. — John D. Rockefeller

#motivatingwords #motivating quotes #inspiration #inspirational #life quote motivation #lifequotes #growth #change #inspirationalquotes #inspirational quotations

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whiskeykneat · 6 years ago

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One More Saturday Night [1]

Notes: trying something a little different since the ao3 link doesn't seem to be working for some people. I made a cut but if it doesn't work this is tagged #long post. // Summary: For everyone else, it's just one more Saturday night in 1964, but for Gale Hawthorne and Peeta Mellark, they’ve both received letters that will change the course of their lives forever. // Rating: this chapter is T, but some parts will be N*FW

I. Fortunate Son (1964)

CHAPTER ONE

It's eight o'clock on a sultry July night in Twelvetrees, West Virginia. Down at the carhop, Katniss Everdeen has just switched shifts with Joanna Mason, and as she leans against the freezer, stretching her sore calves, she's unaware that the boy who's just rolled up in the parking lot with his brothers, the one who carries fifty pound sacks of flour to the back door and gets tongue tied in her presence, would give her the world if he could.

While Joanna slicks red lipstick on her sultry mouth and clips on her garters under the flickering yellow light of the washroom, Peeta Mellark sits in the parking lot of the carhop and turns the words he'll say to Katniss Everdeen over and over again in his mouth, the official decision letter from the draft board burning a hole in his pocket.

He ain't needed here. Got some brothers. That son of yours has always been useless. Let the army straighten him out, Mr Mellark. His mother's words feel like they've been seared into his soul, deeper than the burns from his many years of tending the ovens in their family bakery.

[[MORE]]

"Peet! Cat got your tongue?" Delly giggles, elbowing Peeta in the side. Delly is like a sister to him, they grew up side by side in the garden between the shoe shop and the bakery, fast friends since the day she found him hiding from his mother under the rose bushes.

Unlike Peeta, Delly has always known what she'll do when she grows up, and that's marrying the boy with the easy, charming smile who sits even now with one arm slung over her shoulders -- Peeta's second eldest brother, Wheatley. Their lives are laid out before them like the instructions for a gingerbread house, all it takes it for the pieces to be iced together, like a fairy story, falling into place.

The letter crinkles in Peeta's shirt pocket when he pats it, and as if he knows what's on Peeta's mind, Wheatley nudges him unsubtly. "You gonna tell her?" Peeta has never been close to his older brothers, and this spirit of bonhomie at the eleventh hour feels like they've already picked out a plot at the VA cemetery for him.

Peeta shrugs, feeling a blush heat his cheeks as Katniss skates on by.

"My, I wish I could pull off those dungarees!" Delly chirps, pointing at Katniss.

"I think she looks..." Like a stone cold fox. "...Outta sight." And Katniss does. She's got her dark hair pinned up like old posters of Rosie the Riveter, with a plain scrubbed face and not a hint of makeup. Yet something about her is still so inexpressibly arresting that Peeta can't help but stare at her, lost in thought, as she skates between the cars, taking orders left and right.

She's a devil on skates: her form needs work, but she can serve five cars in under fifteen minutes, with nary a drop of root beer float spilled in a single lap. She never smiles, but Peeta knows any boy in town would love to take her to Lookout Point for some necking. The sexual revolution may not have made it this deep into the mountains yet, but when there's nothing else to do, people make their own fun.

Still, the line is drawn between the Seam and Town, Katniss is the girl from the wrong side of the tracks, and Peeta may not want to admit it to himself, but that's the real reason any town boy would take her out, to see if she'd go all the way, or if she'd keep her legs locked up tight.

As she passes by the finned Buick Electra, she looks up and meets Peeta's eye, and though she never breaks the flow, he sees her look back again, and he could swear she almost smiles.

•••

I don't know how you do it, Joanna had said earlier, with a tone in her voice that might have been a slap or a smile. You might just make something of yourself and get out of this town, kiddo. What she doesn't say is written on every silver scar that marks her flesh, but Katniss lets Joanna keep her secrets, and that's why they're friends.

When Joanna slams out the back door, Katniss hears a Caddy roar in the alley like a tiger, and there's the scream of her friend's high laughter before the only sound left in the waiting night is crickets and the catchy song trickling from the kitchen radio: Do wah diddy diddy dum diddy do...

For a moment, Katniss is lost in the past, and she stares out the back door as the moths flutter at the neon lights, feeling every year of her eighteen summers and twenty more besides, as though she's faded to a pale reflection of herself before she's ever gotten her or Prim out of this place.

"You look like you're run off your feet, girl. Sit down and take a breather. Them Town kids can wait." Chaff plucks the order pad from Katniss's fingers and starts putting up the tickets as he steers her to a chair beside the fan. "'Sides, Mitch would kill me if you fainted on my watch." Chaff passes Katniss an ice cold bottle of pop, and she feels herself sag in relief.

Chaff once flew planes with Abernathy, back in the war with Germany, but beyond that she hardly knows him at all, for Chaff never talks about the city he left to come to their little town that sleeps as the rest of the modern world passes them by.

The bottle of pop sweats in her hands, and it makes her think of the way her pa would bring home one as a treat when she was little, to be shared sip by tiny sip with her baby sister, each fizzy bubble held in their mouths for as long as they could, to make the sweetness last.

"Shit, Miss Undersee was supposed to be here an hour ago." Chaff smacks a hand on the counter, but Katniss can tell he doesn't half care. "If she's late one more time, I'll fire her ass. I don't care who her daddy is."

Before Katniss can make up an excuse for Madge (the secret of how sick Madge's mama is lies on her tongue like a wedge of pitch, sticking her gums together), Chaff passes her a twist of greasy fries and a milkshake (strawberry, like the wild berries she used to sell door to door with her best friend Gale, before he went down the mine). She can't believe how ravenous she is, anyone would think she hadn't eaten since breakfast, and that's as close to the truth as she's willing to admit to herself.

Ever since the mine explosion that killed her father, back in '55, Katniss has had to shift for herself and her sister, keeping their small family afloat. The mine owner sent their mama to a sanitarium in Richmond to recuperate. When she returned, she seemed half the person she used to be, and had to return again and again to be put back together for something called hysteria.

But that's all water under the bridge now, and Katniss is no longer that frightened eleven year old girl, forced to survive on the kindness of strangers. Abernathy took pity on her and hired her as soon as she turned fifteen to work for him at the carhop, and she'll spend her life trying to repay a debt that can never be quantified.

Mr Abernathy passed out hours ago, he's almost as fond of white lightning as Katniss is of making extra tips, anything to get out of this town before it's too late. She's got a scholarship to the university, the same place Abernathy went to, even though she's no more likely to study physics than she is to sprout wings and fly away from the dust of this coal town.

At midnight, when the neon lights shut down, and all the moths in town flock to the lustrous glow the stars make over the quarry pond, she and Chaff will use all of their combined strength to roll Abernathy over and make sure he doesn't drown in his own vomit. That's part of her debt, and she'll be deep in it until she shuffles off this mortal coil.

So when Madge bursts through the door, not a single strand of blonde hair out of place, Katniss is too full of sugar and grease to protest when Madge insists she'll take the next orders out.

"Been pilin' up." Chaff nods to the tickets. "That little Cartwright gal came by and dropped 'em off while Katniss took a breather. By the sounds of it, they're gittin' liquored up out there." But he doesn't make a move to stop Madge from going out the door.

Madge blows a strand of golden hair off her forehead and adjusts her headband, her pale fingers flying over the laces in an intricate pattern as she re-ties her skates. They're pristine white, the kind that Katniss's little sister Primrose would give her eye teeth for, but nothing in the Seam stays white for long, not with the coal dust that gets onto everything, coating it like funerary ash.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," she says to Katniss, biting her lip and looking away from her friend. Chaff makes a sound of deep disgust in his throat, and passes Madge the tray. Once she's skated from sight, he turns back to the fryer, and turns up the radio.

Come gather 'round friends and I'll tell you a tale / Of when the red iron pits ran a-plenty / But the cardboard-filled windows and old men on the benches / Tell you now that the whole town is empty (North Country Blues, Bob Dylan)

•••

Madge has skated eleven blocks to get here, refusing to take her daddy's car like some spoiled little debutante, although she might have a year ago, before she went to university, before everything began to fall apart. There's a run in her stockings that will have to be repaired soon, and a burning in her lungs that reminds her she's alive. Now that she's been to university and back, this town feels smaller than ever, but it's a good feeling, as if nothing bad could ever happen here, cocooned from the world outside.

When the lights turn down low, and the town sleeps, she'll lie in her bed and listen to the hum of the locusts in the sycamore tree, where the initials M+G are still scarred across the trunk, as if life followed a pattern, laid out like a children's jumping rhyme.

•••

It is quite propitious, as far as plans go, Miss Undersee. Seneca dabbed at his lips with his napkin. His mustache was damp with moisture, and she felt her stomach curdle at the way it gleamed wetly under the lights. She just hoped he got this whole breakup over with soon, because she was sure that one more minute of having to endure his rubbery lips and his mechanical groping on her knee would make her commit an entirely unladylike act.

As Madge fantasized about flipping Seneca the bird, he laid a clammy hand over hers and took a deep breath. With my money and your breeding, I think a marriage would suit the pair of us, don't you agree?

But my degree... I haven't finished it yet. Madge's smile froze in place, suddenly entirely too aware of the predatory gazes of the waitstaff, as though the entire moment had been orchestrated. She felt blindsided, and furious all at once. But good manners won out, and she smiled again, with a cheer she did not feel.

Seneca laughed, a touch of condescension creeping into his voice. I'm not marrying you for your mind, Margareta. Your father said you might be stubborn.

Madge reeled back in shock, stunned. Suddenly it all seemed too much: the soft candlelight felt as garish as the cheap lights of a carnival fanfare, the white wine in her glass tasted like rotgut mash. She tried to tug her hand back from Seneca's, but he held it fast. You talked to my daddy already? Her voice seemed to be coming from far away.

Why, of course I did, darling. Seneca squeezed her arm tight, a warning. Now, if you want to finish your university degree by mail, that's fine with me, but you won't need any of that when you're Mrs Seneca Crane, wife to the next senator of West Virginia. He continued his monologue, the room fading to a single pinprick of light until all Madge could see was that flashy diamond, all she could hear was the sound of champagne corks and applause, and all she could feel was the tightness closing in on her, as if Seneca's ring was around her neck instead of her finger.

#long post #gadge #gale/madge #gale x madge #everlark #historical au #hunger games #hunger games fic #underthorne #gale hawthorne #madge undersee #katniss everdeen #peeta mellark

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thirtysixsavefiles · 6 years ago

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Did some thinking on Twitter about the only otp question that matters, which is: "which of your otp loads the dishwasher wrong." Between Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji, in a modern AU where they have a dishwasher, I'd argue that the answer is actually: neither of them.

It goes down like this: Wei Ying comes home after some time away - business trip, maybe, or maybe he went off to visit Jin Ling and Lan Zhan is the one who had to stay for business - either way, he's been away from home for at least a week.

He gets home late at night - Lan Zhan is asleep, hopefully, and Wei Ying is trying to be quiet as he gets himself a glass of water. Planes are thirsty business, even first class (and Lan Zhan would never let him fly anything less than first class).

He pulls open the dishwasher to put his glass in it - Lan Zhan gives him a disappointed look when he leaves dishes in the sink - and has a moment of vertigo where he wonders if he's somehow in the wrong condo.

It's their dishes - Lan Zhan's soft blue china, Wei Ying's obnoxious collectible tourist glasses - but it's loaded in in a pattern Wei Ying has never seen before and it's only in this moment that he realizes that they have a pattern in which they load the dishwasher.

Wei Ying always puts bowls in the top rack - habit, back from the days he didn't have the kind of fancy washer Lan money can afford - but here they're lined up on the bottom. There are serving spoons laid carefully in the top rack, where he always shoves them in the utensil caddy. This is clearly Lan Zhan's work. But Wei Ying's never seen him do it like this before.

And what is occurring to Wei Ying in this moment is that for all the time they've been living together, Lan Zhan has been following his lead in this, loading the dishwasher according to the patter that Wei Ying follows, so unobtrusively that Wei Ying never even noticed.

This is a heady revelation for 11:30 pm after a long flight. He puts his glass in the top rack and closes the dishwasher quietly.

Arms slide around his waist and Wei Ying jumps before leaning back into Lan Zhan's warm chest. The edges of Lan Zhan's robe curl around Wei Ying's legs. "I thought you'd be asleep," he says.

"Mn," is the answer. "Waiting for you."

"What was so interesting in the dishes?" Lan Zhan continues, and Wei Ying realizes that he might, might have been standing in the kitchen motionless while trying to mentally review every time they'd done the washing up together.

"Nothing. I just -" he turns in Lan Zhan's arms and settling his own around Lan Zhan's neck.

"I love you, you know that? It's important to me that you know that." He's babbling a little but it's late, he's justified, and the small smile breaking like the dawn over Lan Zhan's face is worth any amount of awkwardness.

"Love you too," Lan Zhan murmurs, leaning forward and it's been years but Wei Ying's heart still skips a bit in disbelief every time he hears it, even with the evidence lined up neatly in the dishwasher behind him.

"Come to bed," Lan Zhan murmurs against his jaw, and Wei Ying sighs, letting his eyes close.

"Yes."

#wangxian #wei wuxian #lan wangji #mdzs #mo dao zu shi #the dishwasher question #otp questions

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ancestralvoices · 6 years ago

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Spirit possession takes place through the diviner’s incantations and percussion instruments played by the wife/husband of the diviner. Once possessed by the spirit, the diviner decorates his or her own body with chalk designs and adorn him/herself with necklaces and beautifully colored headbands of beads and fur, the patterns of the beads signifying the presence and power of the spirit. When possessed, the diviner "talks, acts, and thinks" as — and, indeed, assumes the identity of— his/her "consulting spirit". When a male diviner conducts a divination ritual, his wife will sit at his right and a sculpture of a seated or kneeling female figure holding a bowl will be placed on his left. The carving represents the wife of the diviner's possessing spirit, for among the Luba, women are regarded as vessels of spiritual power. A consultation proceeds with concerns addressed to the diviner by the suppliants. The diviner in turn speaks to his/her spiritual consultant while shaking an mboko —a covered gourd filled with various items: animal bones, dried beetles, birds' beaks and claws, shells, seeds, seed pods, twigs, caddis-fly cases, beads, tiny iron replicas of tools, and small, carved wood figurines in various postures covered with chalk. When the diviner opens the lid, he/she interprets the configuration of objects that have ended up on top, the diviner uses this to give a hypothesis of the problem, then repeats the processes until a clear understanding of the problem has been formulated. Luba People, Democratic Republic of the Congo, Central Africa Original source – Divination in Sub-Saharan Africa - by John Pemberton III Read more here http://africart.pagesperso-orange.fr/pages/pemb.htm#part2 FOR MORE INFORMATION LIKE THIS SEE LINK IN PROFILE BIO - SPIRIT IS ETERNAL #divination #luba #congo #figurine #spiritualpower #spirit #spiritpossession #possesion #diviner https://www.instagram.com/p/B0BIuGhHVt9/?igshid=1pokvo9j2uhyu

#part2 #divination #luba #congo #figurine #spiritualpower #spirit #spiritpossession #possesion #diviner

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lostcoastoutfitters · 6 years ago

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Eastern Sierra Fly Fishing Report

Jim Stimson reports on 4.4.19

Eastern Sierra Fly Fishing Report

Although the snow is melting quickly, it is still very winter-like with chilly morning temperatures, frost, and occasional snow showers. You can always count on midges and BWO’s to hatch no matter what, with an occasional caddis and skwala cruising through. Once the weather turns warm, the trout will be gorging themselves on a long overdue bounty of bugs. The Sierra, in general, is running about 160% of normal for the season. I look forward to summer and a plethora of water and healthy fisheries.

If you are intent on fishing the Upper Owens, just be careful where you drive and park. Don’t get too frisky driving around especially if you do not own a high clearance vehicle, The main north-south road is fine although there are a couple of intimidating looking puddles (lagoons?) that you cannot avoid. It is when you leave the main road that the fun begins. I’ve been parking out near the main road and walking in…. it only adds a few minutes onto the commute.

East Walker

The Reservoir is brimming with water and the irrigation district is starting to bleed off the surplus into the river system. The flows have been steadily going up and currently sit at 306. The trout are moving around and settling into their new habitats. Fishing is on the slower side with cold water being released from the dam, but do not despair. There are a lot of hogs in all the good places. Try skwala and baetis patterns.

Hot Creek

The creek is flowing through the canyon at 45 cfs. Access is the issue. You will have to park your vehicle near Hot Creek Ranch then walk, ski, or snowshoe in. Target your casts to the feeding lanes between the grasses and rocks. You may not see fish, but they are there. Try a dry-dropper setup with a caddis or mayfly pattern above and a midge or scud below.

Upper Owens River

The flows are at 63 cfs but these are readings taken high in the river system. Once Hot Creek dumps into the mid-section the flows are closer to about 110 cfs. More and more trout are spreading out throughout the river system. If you get a hookup, the fish are usually in the 18-22” range, and fat. Try red san juans with egg patterns dropped from the hook bend.

Lower Owens River

The Lower Owens flows are hovering at 640 cfs. Be careful out there at these readings. You can easily go for am impromptu swim and end up in the San Fernando Valley if you are not careful. Most trout are in that 10-12” range but if you poke around and get lucky, you can hook into some browns in the 15-16” category. There are some healthy midge and mayfly hatches throughout the day. I caught fish on everything from green caddis worms to black midges.

Jim Stimson Fly Fishing

March 28th, 2019

Eastern Sierra Fly Fishing Report

Well? Apparently, winter is not over just yet. The Ski Area is reporting an additional 8-12” of new snow this morning. The Sierra in general is running about 150% of normal for the season. I look forward to summer and a plethora of water and healthy fisheries.If you are intent on fishing the Upper Owens, plan on parking out on the paved road near the bridge and walking in. There are many snowmobile tracks out there that you can walk on, otherwise plan on either skiing, snowshoeing, or post holing your way to the river.What fishing we have is on the slow side. Don’t expect big numbers of fish until the weather and the water start warming up. The fish are in there but they are very lethargic. Unless you put it in front of their snouts, they tend to just watch your presentation drift by. So my hint? Be patient and persistent, keep grinding away on ‘em and be thorough. Make sure you cover the water before you move onto the next hole.

East Walker

The Reservoir is brimming with water and the irrigation district is starting to bleed off the surplus into the river system. The flows have been steadily going up and currently sit at 282. The trout are moving around and settling into their new habitats. Fishing is on the slower side with cold water being released from the dam, but do not despair. There are a lot of hogs in all the good places. Try skwala and baetis patterns.

Hot Creek

Upper Owens River

With all of this snow along the river corridor, the trout will earn a well deserved break from the angling pressure. The flows are at 99 cfs but these are readings taken high in the river system. Once Hot Creek dumps into the mid-section the flows are closer to about 140 cfs. More and more trout are spreading out throughout the river system. If you get a hookup, the fish are usually in the 18-22” range, and fat. Try red san juans with egg patterns dropped from the hook bend.

Lower Owens River

The Lower Owens flows are hovering at 440 cfs. Be careful out there at these readings. You can easily go for am impromptu swim if you are not careful. Most trout are in that 10-12” range but if you poke around and get lucky, you can hook into some browns in the 15-16” category. There are some healthy midge and mayfly hatches throughout the day. I caught fish on everything from green caddis worms to black midges.

#fishingreport #frEsierra

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