12 Days of Christmas – Day Six – Summer Dry Fly Selection

12 Days of Christmas – Day Six – Summer Dry Fly Selection

 

West Yellowstone is one of those unique places in the world which offers dry fly fishing for nearly seven months of the year. Most of us in the shop prefer to fish dries whenever possible in our daily lives as anglers to our fishing programs as guides. From the Henry’s Fork to the Madison, to the Northeast Corner to the Firehole River, we do our best to fish it dry. The flies in this package represent some of the fishiest patterns in the shop; it’s a smattering of caddis and mayflies and includes four of Joe Moore’s original fly patterns.

The contents of the package is below.

1 x BSA Small Heavy Duty Waterproof Fly Box – FREE!

2 x JoJo’s Comparabuzz Tan Sz. 16

2 x JoJo’s PMD Sz. 16

2 x Royal Wulff Cripple Sz. 16

2 x JoJo’s Riffle Riser PMD Cripple Sz. 16

2 x Cornfed Caddis Sz. 14

2 x Missing Link Caddis PMD Sz. 16 & 14

2 x Swisher’s Peacock PMX Sz. 12

2 x JoJo’s Rusty Spinner Sz. 16

2 x Missing Link Caddis Original Black Sz. 14

2 x CDC Para Spinner Rusty Sz. 16

Poetry from the Water

Poetry from the Water

Fishing isn’t just about catching fish for the vast majority of folks who enjoy the pursuit.  For many of us, angling is an excuse to spend time on the water, in nature, reconnecting with friends, or our thoughts, and soaking it all in.  It’s no surprise that so many anglers also have a bit of an artistic or literary side.  On the water, inspiration is everywhere.
Big Sky Anglers shop staffer Connor Flynn is one of us who finds inspiration from his time fishing.  Poetry/song are his chosen means of artistic expression, and he’s been kind enough to let us share a couple of his efforts with you via the blog.  The following pieces exist in print as poems, but have also been recorded as songs by Connor, acting as his rockstar alter ego, Black Jack Davey.  If you enjoy these, you can check out what else he’s up to on Facebook .

 “Evening Walk” 

Out on an evening walk tonight

I gaze into the water.

Feeding city dulled eyes

that see in the stillness.

Left by the wind

which perhaps went chasing the cloud’s pagodas.

The clouds that billow in the water.

But looking up,

my real eyes see,

it’s the small waves.

Far away from the dissipating mountains

that lingers till it’s return.

A drifting fish out on an evening float

to gaze up into our world.

At the trees, and the mountains, and the clouds.

And the occasional rambler,

who only through peace can chase the clouds pagodas.

And the occasional rambler,

who only through peace can penetrate the surface.

 “Time Is But The Stream” 

Written in the Frank Church Wilderness, Fall 2015

Time is but the stream

I go fishin’ in.
Everyday I dream of you,
but time keeps drifting’ along.
When I see you in my dreams
I know there’s something wrong.
When you speak to me
you know just what to say.
So why don’t we turn back time?
I can’t take this current alone.
Time is but the stream
I go fishin’ in.
History is the bedcarved by the river of life.
I’ve been in this place way too long.
I’m beginning to question what is real.
Soon I know I’ll be next to you.
When that time comes I’ll certainly know.
Till then,I’ll keep singing’ this song.
Time is but the stream
I go fishin’ in.