24 fishermen from all over the state. LD being the organizer is a rail of a man, but endless energy and fish stoke keep him anchored to the desert floor. Always looking for balance between what people want and knowing that compromise is what we all end up with.
His ideal for this little stream is a fishery the rival of any in the north west, shared by the ranchers who own the hills and stream sides and anglers. He believes.
City and country fly fishermen intermingle, each day somebody gets to observe another group. There is still the subtle sense between east and west-siders that we play for different teams, but we all fish with the same passion. A healthy stream seems a decent place to find common ground.
This rock hides a few big boys in it's shadows......
Some of the teams had a classic member or two if they were lucky. One of my favorites was the guy in the blue wife beater tee, a size too small. He is deathly afraid of snakes and carried a gun to allay his fears, in addition to the snake proof gaiters manufactured from Kevlar. Oh did I mention it was a .357? Loaded with hollow points? For rattlers! Are you serious? Fear is marvelous tool for creating an exaggerated response.
Next; "High Noon" in the street.
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