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Updated 2012-07-11 Swedish version |
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Updated 2012-07-11 Swedish version |
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| Column nr. 7 2012 | |
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Alaska 2012 Grand Slam "Many are called ! Few are Chosen" Fletcher Quill June 2012
Not really sure if it was Old Hemingway or Aristotle that opined in a moment of absolute splendor, "Men who never realize their dreams live peaceful boring ass lives like their fathers" Lake Marie 2012 adventure could not possibly have been packed with more spontaneous combustion, revelry, amazing all species days day after day.... Having been to this true world class remote Alaskan Mecca for huge King Salmon, 26 inch plus Rainbow’s, Dolly’s, Eagles, Moose and Bears many times. I was armed with a clear understanding of exactly what might be the most outrageous action stuffed Alaska remote trip I have ever taken! As I headed for the small plane loading and one hour ride to Lake Marie I thought now we see what kind of fly fishers , personalities, carnivore’s I would be spending 18 dinners, and Breakfasts with shooting some of the most insane, rich pure, well honed American Bullshit as humanly possible. I was ready and locked and cocked Baby. It took about a nano second to feel very comfortable with a fine array of America’s talented fly fishers from Main to Colorado and all points in between. Then as the little Otter plane began to rev up and explode my ears I pondered that one bright red thought that always haunts me! And then quickly came to the conclusion when the Lord of Lords gets ready you got to move, you got to move! Then suddenly at around twenty minutes out a rare incident occurs ("once in 23 yr’s our Hero pilot quickly said"). The engine went dead and the pilots hands began dancing around the instruments like Bee’s looking for Honey as the plane drops and it appears no where to land but tree tops or wet tundra when suddenly the engine fires and dies and we miraculously land at a tiny air strip safely. Our Hero pilot turns around quite cooly and say’s "This is not our destination", Moments later another plane appears, a float plane lands we transfer everything into the float plane and its back to Anchorage to have another shot at it. The young pilots who do what they do every day in Alaska are real cold steel cut American Hero’s every day they go up. God Bless everyone of them.
Band Of Brother’s In the few moments of that drama not one word was uttered, no tears, screams, prayer’s out loud. After, it took a few minutes to sort it out kiss the ground and realize a new Band of Brothers had been formed in cold hard reality, just like my life as a boy Marine so long ago. I was now about to begin a week of the most exciting multi specie slam’s imaginable... A Band of Brother’s formed. This party was started and it never quit. Can’t help but ponder the Obituary in the Alaska Daily Newspaper, tragic loss of three well known notorious world class fly fishermen early this morning. Authorities are investigating why the engine failed and the Otter went down and disintegrated." The Brothers of The Long Rod Master Class lost one Colorado Wildlife Commissioner Dave the lion Hearted, Crossword Puzzle Slave, slinger of the purest American horse manure now departed. One gentle tall thin easy going small town dentist Scott Mr. Incisor, philosopher,who lived in perpetual optimism and kindness and Fly Fishing’s most published notorious character Skate Board rolling real Bad boy, Fletcher Quill’s demented author meets the perfect end. No Question these boys lived it , breathed fly fishing and thank the Lord of lord’s died in excellent company in the saddle."
Day One John Wilson owner Lake Marie was born with an innate talent, he has consistently chosen Guides who know exactly how to find, play, land everything that swims, pamper clients and generally work their ass’s off from Sun up till it sets in the wild wilderness! Every time I show up the Head Guide and I go for one week just the two of us. Over the years men like the Raven and last year Matt the Mouse Master keep me in the best most action splashed waters. This year I had the pleasure of working with Big Bad Brad Lower Burrell PA’s most talented Piscatorial Prognosticator! Only real bad news is the closing of King season this year. State fish and game say the numbers are down and its time to let the stock replenish, I saw many Kings , not as many as in past years, but, they we there. One was advised to not focus on them , and if any were caught let them go. With that in mind Brad and I headed out at 8am. A day I’ll never forget, from the get go Rainbow’s one after another all big and fat and healthy. 25 plus caught and released working with Bad Brad’s personal fly pattern’s. It was clear from Day One this character knew the rivers, streams. Creeks, like he knew his way around dedicated fly maniacs! Water running high and fast meant crossing rivers would be a study in caution and respect.
Brad kept my 6 weight Bamboo bent in half all day as we worked rivers and creeks packed with fat Bow’s. Moving the whole day, walk fifty feet cast near water edges, under trees, seams and currents were carefully played with success almost every cast! A day to remember, by lunch we sat round the fire smiling and laughing over a perfect day, what a way to begin one week of non stop action. Everyone at the Lodge had some luck. Lake Marie was alive and well and this trip was off and running. Brad was my ticket to non stop action including many Kings caught with trout patterns, often fighting so hard the hook retrieved was straightened out like Spider man had bent it! Insane to catch and fight 50 pound plus Kings with 6 weight Bamboo! I was home and happy as a pig rolling in you know what.... Day one almost a Grand Slam from the get go! Alaska looked tasted and mesmerized me like and old perfect girlfriend knocking on the front door.. Colors, clear water and arctic grey mixing blending, sounds of raging rivers screaming in these ancient ear’s ahhh splendid over amping mind numbing. Creeks, streams gurgling that sound endless gurgling as the Sun fracturing bouncing off the bottom crystal clear waters and endless green tree’s everywhere. Bear tracks fresh everywhere you look. I study the ground carefully for tracks signs. Muddy shores are perfect for discerning the local population of Eagles, Moose, Bear’s, and they say wild cats roam at will unmolested except for the few months of fly season. Alaska remote is just like the Lord of Lord’s created in the beginning. Sensory over load every day, each nite with the Sun still up I make efforts to burn into my hard drive all the sounds, smells, exploding emotions and sheer joy when sixty pounds of pure instinct tries to rip my arms off over and over and over and over!
The best part day one getting to know Big Bad Brad 6feet 6and all fly fishermen from the time he was born, hard core this 24 year old fly guide. We quickly established one criteria for next week together six to ten hours day. Catching and releasing as many multi species as swims and moving quickly, four five casts nobody home, lets go another hole another endless array of holes all day every day. He made fires in the rain, never made one mistake with fly choices, knew every rock after three years of careful study. From the get go it was clear a Grand Slam (All species caught released in one day was possible!) It was like hanging with Charley Sheen 3am Hollywood and Vine in one of his Ferrari’s You can be sure your going to have fun. Over the year’s many guides have worked with me, this young man good as it gets no question, in seven days not one mistake, Big Bad Brad... (Part Two Next month!) Contact John Wilson at www.lakemarie.com
Written by Dan Fallon © 2012
"ADVENTURES OF FLETCHER QUILL" "For Satan finds some mischief still for idle
Hands......" General Quill and his main crew the Dali Lama. General Duke Parker, Glimmer Twin Keith Richards are trying to get comfortable in the uber quick silent Marine stealth chopper they decided to use to get to Alaska via several mid ocean refueling stops on board two aircraft carrier groups stationed along the way... The Black Messiah slowly unraveling as the reality of being just another one term President appears to be cut in marble, Justice Quill has his hands full cell phones exploding in both ears as Dali Lama hands Quill the traveler mini gold bong. "Fletcher are you in the air Marine? Dam, I gotta get the fuck out of the Black House Son! We may have to extend this trout fly trip man, Shit Homely is kicking my ass big time while the screwball shit in the middle east is killing me as well. Clinton had his Rwanda, I got my Mogadishu! They are dropping like flies and my hands are tied man. How long till you get here?" "Hold up Black Cowboy, hold up! We hit USA air in one hour, with just enough fuel to make your roof kid, I had my girl Sugar Tit’s run the Tarot Cards on you before I left Irish air space. It don’t look good Pilgrim, one term and your done Son. Time to let that last bitter taste work its way into your waking state. The Death card keeps coming up....." "Fucking economy here is shit and slowly going south faster then you and Dali hitting that gold Bong! Girls ain’t gonna plant that organic garden this year, Man I really need to get the fuck out of here. Hellery going nuts cause our hands are tied man, we got no fundage to roll around trying to stop these multi national genocides." "I cannot find fucking jobs cause there ain’t none Quill. All that trillions in stimulus went nowhere, giving the prick Bankers the keys to the Gold Mine was stupid Dude, I’m done, it’s over, my team is jumping ship faster then your new under age Bitch can change her pink panties." "Whoo the fuck up Cowboy! She is barely over twenty one. Your really swimming in those I used To Be The President Blues Separation Anxiety Complex Mother Fucker (IUTBPSACMF). My advice take your Meds and get ready, we land in one hour, keep those fucking F18s off our ass, hate those punk ass Air Force boys on our six, comprende?" "Did you bring the Shrooms and the Afghani Hashish and the Poppers and the video’s of the Pope and his new Stripper Pole and and......" "I can see we need to rebuild your pathetic ass Son. Hit that crazy Maui Wowi I sent you and listen to " Exile On Main Street " as high as your capable till we arrive Kid, relax....." As the little Special Ops Marine chopper begins to descend on the roof of the most famous house in America, The Black House until Nov anyways..... Cell phones in each ear it’s Quill’s latest squeeze Sugar Tit’s and his old Buddy Radio Guru Jimmy Ferguson still trying to find and knock down his Canadian Bear this year. "Hey General Chaos how’s it hanging Jar Head? Listen I hear your thinking Blues Harp playing for ever old man? Word is your old Band including that fucking looser Loose Pussy are getting ready to start rehearsals’ for a world tour with Sammy and his Chicken Foot outfit? You know I have to be the one you break this news with on the fucking air on my stations exclusive right Fletcher, no Bullshit man, let me lay this out Buddy?" "Fucking A Barbecue Bear Hunter..... Why don’t you grab a jet and meet us right now in Anchorage before we head North with the Black Messiah his last fly adventure before the Eternal Book Tour (EBT)" "Where are you going from Anchorage?" "Two hundred miles south west into an area few have seen, we float for fifty miles then camp by a small river system full of King Salmon and Trout. I have extra everything Jimmy, you get here we can out fit you quick. Call me back before we leave Washington air space with the Messiah." As the Chopper descends Quill and his boys are whisked away into the secret service elevator that connects to the Commander and Chiefs private library quarters. Five fingers of Kentucky’s finest old Jack Daniels waits next to a red, white, Blue Bong loaded with California Train Wreck/ Brain Fuck Cannabis, its one, its on.......... "Quill, Dali, Duke, come in boys, lets get right to it. Hit this shit Hellery just sent me. Now you understand why that Bitches ass is a mile wide hey! Smells like southern pig shit you say? Yeah baby it was raised on her hubby Bubba’s cousin’s pig ranch. Now Quill you have those physic Shrooms and few tabs of Owsley’s best yes?" "Relax One Term Wonder Boy (OTWB).... All supplies accounted for. Need a favor for me and the my Boys. Can you have our International Diplomatic Immunity Pass Ports updated and expanded to carry weapons. Need this done before Duke and I pay Putang a last visit after this fly trip." "Dude scream at Dali to stop Boarding that fucking Bong man, I know he’s your Boy Marine, But, that fucking Unholy man is starting to get on my Tit understand!!" "At ease Jar Head, Dali deals in the higher regions of surreality Man, don’t start thinking bout him like me , you or any other fucking mortal. He rides the eternal sanguine energies of the ancient man gods Son. I love you Marine, but, do not fuck with Dali, he is my friend, my soul keeper, main running mate like you understand?" "He do have the finest fucking Hashish I ever smoked Judge, Ok, your boy, your Pal, still pain in the ass.." "Remember old Rodney king, "Why can’t we all just get along?" You know he just drowned in his own swimming pool... Some men are born to loose, borne to loose....." Secret Service boys still stinging from the deep reaming they took for not paying local Whore’s for services rendered are carrying all the Black Messiah’s baggage to the roof top Helicopter Pad. General Quill’s personal Lockheed 9000 x Black turbo jet Special Ops Chopper sits quietly ready to roll at near 800 Nautical miles per as the fly fishing party heads for Alaska and quite possibly the last fly trip as the President. Quill, General Duke Parker, Dali Lama, and on the way Radio Magnet Jimmy Ferguson. The Jet Chopper painted cobalt black is stocked with rare 200 year old Irish Whiskey, fifty pounds of Main Lobster, 50 pounds Kobi Beef, and all the spices needed to make dam sure Quill and the boys are well taken care of. Of course five pounds of Nigerian magic mushroom’s, 100 tab’s 5000 mikes LSD, 300 killer special San Francisco, Chicago live Blues CD’S featuring Muddy Waters Band, Blind Faith, Howling Wolf, Albert King, Albert Collins, Paul Butterfield, Early Stones, Sunny Land Slim, Otis Spann, Homesick James, Willy Dixon, junior wells, Little Walter and Carey Bell. All bases covered for this deep Alaska fly trip to remember.... "Man, its feels good to get the fuck away from the Black House Boys, I been getting my black ass kicked right and left lately, can’t fucking win! You Quill, what is this shit about you resigning from the Supreme Court fool? You know it’s a life long dealy Son? How you going to roll now? Kick start that Band of fucking Felon’s you call " Stiff Nipples " and tour the world playing and jamming what left of your life away? Uh Huh, we both got serious shit to sort hey old man?" "Hope you been working on the first of endless self aggrandizing Books your going to write cause their ain’t a fucking thang else for you to do unless you take Bubba Clinton’s Road to perpetual ego stroking and start some Bullshit Foundation dedicated to whatever the fuck is currently cool Pilgrim..." "Excuse me, hit this spliff I just rolled Quilly it be the real shit Son, smell the African Elephant shit it grew near... Ahhh, the kind? Hit it Dawg, hit it. Duke give me another hand ful of those shrooms Man, Oh yeahhhh." "Dali, this joint is rolled perfectly Son, how about a special blessing preyer to get this party started Unholy Man?" "Yes, It is my pleasure to ask the elements to Bless this trip and surround us with orange light energy in the name of Ragnesh Lord of light and Dark. We will humbly say his name in love and peace, repeat with me Boys, " Ragnesh , Krishnah, Ya de ya de, Love and light incircle and wrap us in oraange light" The little jet chopper now riding fast winds at 25 thousand feet steady and fast closes in on Seattle almost half way to Alaska’s Anchorage stop over City for last cell call’s and anything needed before the final remote flight of two hour’s. Emergency Cell red Phone explodes into Justice Quill’s ear’s, it’s another call from a long lost Blues Band Brother, none other then one and only Guitar Player Quill ever played with louis Pussy AKA Loose Pussy.... Loose Pussy "Man, it’s too many years since I heard that voice Mr. More famous then Elvis! Son how many more bidness cards you need old man? Supreme Court judge, Three Star General Marine, Secretary Of The Interior, now I just heard your putting Stiff Nipples back together and we begin rehearsals in six months or less, is that right old man?" "Fuck the Court Man, tired of it.Elvis was and is a God, I’m just a lucky mother fucker Son. Yeah, we are going to fire up Stiff Nipples and see what happens. Hope your well and under control Man? If your clean enough to play and tour , I mean hard ass touring to get a brand name and a following will take at least two years on the road? Ready for steady two years of touring Son, you ready for that loose Pussy?" "Oh Yeah, had my blood changed three times Like Keith did back in his last clean up period, Man, I’m clean mean Guitar flailing machine flyman, You still fly fish Quill?" "Oh yeah, on the way deep Alaska right now with the Black Messiah and Dali and Keith and the boys. Look, get your ass over to Hawaii and stay at my penthouse with Clay Toris until I get back. Get read Son, time to get back to where we once belonged..... Back to where we once belonged. Next stop deep Alaska Fly Fishing Adventure to be not forgotten
Read about Fletcher Quill in earlier chapters: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11
Written by Dan Fallon © 2012 For Dan
Fallon's earlier and later columns;
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