Yuba flow-ku

A river once gold,
shimmers Rainbows abundant.
Leaping arches splash.

Now wadding internet,
water watch spins H2o.
a sinking feeling.

March Mavericks-Redux?

This March came and went like a big disappointment. Since june of last year, the dream of swinging March Brown soft hackles in the film, watching your line tare from the water mid swing, peeling off as they turn, Yuba rainbow trout measured in pounds not inches has been on everyones mind. However in 2011 the river has been high, well not just high but huge. It feels like the river has been in the 6000 cfs range all year. Spiking and dropping like our emotions. Only now and then settling in just to tease us with the thought it may be fishable. AA and I made it to the river in one of those perfect storm drops in the flow, hitting it on day 4, of a consistent low, just the day before it shot up to 15,000 cfs for another week. We each had all our artillery for the battle, the best method was to nymph. Not our first choice in our arsenal. Not even our second. Lets say it was our last grasp. but what a grasp it was. Having the "private" water side all to ourselves, we found our "el dorado". Many really big fish were caught, using really ugly, big flys. Maybe April will bring new hope. Maybe dream of March 2012.

Yuba 3/12/2011, renga haiku

Brachycentrus, willows cling.
Osprey kiting, the only soul catching,
along this river trail.

EC Caddis, moments code,
three released to be free again.
silver bright, shimmer.

Willows bloom,
YOA watches for me to trespass back,
I sneak away.

North Fork, 2010

A single coyotes cry.
Sinking into the granite.
North Fork gurgles with Goldens.

Popcorn and warm scotch.
fir needles quiver from the chill.
Casiopia spinning by.

Mac and cheese,
enjoyed in the company of
mosquitos.

Yuba-Ku

Above crossing glide.
infrequens emerge
Rainbows leap, splash!

Timbuctoo bend.
Rhithrogena morrisoni swing,
oh mighty tug!

March Mavericks

Januarys winter squals
A river of chocolate milk.
The familiar place,
a more beautiful visit.

Sunny today, willows blossom.
River once chocolate milk,
tumbles through boulders,
glides of freestones anew.

Yuba greenbacks breaking surface.
Rhithrogena morrisoni
palmerd partridge drifts, swing and hover.
like a pitch to the hitter
solid takes, run and landing.

At the edge of sacrament
first a prayer, cover the bases?
the slicks boil from rises.
Infrequens the moments code.













A strange faith requires our willing suspension of disbelief. But very different from the suspension of reason. I've waited all season for this moment. The return of March Browns. There emergence drive the fish into feeding frenzies. On the water without an indicator for three months, in anticipation of this moment. To cast first dead-drift, then into the swing. Full faith in the connection. Direct contact. So more poetic than 3 SSG's. Like a ballet. Why would you put an indicator on right now!? Why!? He said, "It would be like walking into a temple with your dick in your hand". I must agree, the Yuba has been a temple for these past few months. How long will it last.

Elusive flow.

Standing in the flow, emerald clear chill.
I know in my mind and heart you are there, in your space.
I'm here visiting again. With honorable intensions. Only to grasp your spirit for a moment.
Then you'll free me to play in your home another day.
A sudden pull, then a furry of struggle. Your truth becomes my truth, to be free again.

Lower Yuba 12.20.09