Here’s Mud in Your Eye

Guest Blogger: Mike Cline, Bozeman, Montana

This might seem an odd introduction to a fly tying blog, but trust me there’s a connection, albeit fanciful. Which of the following would you chose as the answer to this question?

What is the meaning of “Here’s mud in your eye!

1. It’s is a congratulatory drinking toast, similar to “bottoms up!

2. A phrase a jockey might use to encourage other riders to come in second or worse (the first horse kicks up mud, but doesn’t get any in their face.)

3. The story of a biblical miracle where Jesus cured a blind man by placing mud in his eyes.

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Two Trout in a Riffle

Guest Blogger: Mike Cline, Bozeman, Montana
mctroutTwo middle age female trout were hanging out along the edge of a nice riffle on a cloudy fall morning. Mrs. Bow said to Mrs. Brown, “Aren’t these Caramel Macchiato Baetis nymphs just delightful? It’s a shame they only serve them on cloudy days.” Mrs. Brown replied. “But I like cloudy days, I feel so much more comfortable and at home in the riffle when it’s cloudy, especially when there’s this almost limitless helpings of these delicious baetis.” “Well”, said Mrs. Bow, “It sure looks like you’ve been snacking when I wasn’t around as you’ve definitely put on some weight. But, it looks good, you’re carrying it well. Are you expecting?” “Of course, you know it’s that time of year where Milt comes around and does his thing. He’s pretty picky about the Redd and I’ve got to keep my energy up.” “When’s the blessed event?” “Well according to my biological clock, the national weather service, NOAA and mother nature, I suspect I’ll have the Redd done by mid-October. Milt’s been hanging around a lot lately, plus all the pretentious young browns have been bugging me as well.” Mrs. Bow remarked “Isn’t Milt jealous, doesn’t he chase the young ones away?” “Of course, but he doesn’t really get aggressive until I am on the Redd, then watch out, he’ll attack anything that comes close. He’s such a sweetheart.”

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Lost and Found

Guest Blogger: Mike Cline, Bozeman, Montana
phonelineAdmittedly, I spend a lot of time on rivers in Montana between March and November. With all that time on water, one is bound to find stuff that someone else lost. Flies, lengths of leader and indicators are the usual finds. That tandem nymph setup with two split shot and a yarn indicator high up in the stream-side brush is typical evidence of an errant cast from a passing drift boat. There aren’t many of them where I fish in Montana, but I always marvel at the collection of leaders, weights, lures, bobbers and hooks that can accumulate on a telephone line running above the stream at a bridge pool. I can imagine the “expletive deleted” moans each time another rig ended up on the line. There’s also the annoying snag in the middle of the river that when you finally sort it out, your fly has tangled itself in another abandoned terminal rig seemingly destined to snarl as much monofilament as possible. Those are the usual annoyances, but there are a lot of other things that get lost along the rivers I’ve fished.

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