November2013
Duvall, WA—The town I’m proud to call home boasts a state-of-the-art wastewater treatment facility, wherein the key word is art. The old sewer plant was declared to be at capacity in 1999, at which time a city-wide Building Moratorium (BM, for short) was imposed until the new facility could be completed. There was No More Room at the Inn, so to speak. Our Cup Had Runneth Over, as it were. Construction of the new facility was the largest public works project in the history of Duvall, and the town folk were elated when the plant came on-line in 2006. Good riddance to the BM!
Q That’s what I’m talking about!
Mind you it’s not just those of us living here in Duvall (pronounced DOO•vall, please) who are quite proud of the facility—in fact I recall reading about like-minded sewage dignitaries from all over who paid homage to the little hamlet of Duvall for the sole purpose of pining over the new facility. After all, the plant employs Membrane Bioreactor (MBR, for short) technology—the first of its kind to treat municipal sewage in the state of Washington! The new treatment plant was awarded a 2006 “Project of the Year” by the American Public Works Association (APWA, for short). The result is that here in Duvall, ultimately our sh#t does, in fact, not stink.
Not a fish rearing pond.
Butt the point of my exposé is less about sewage and more about art, specifically Fish Art (FART, for short). On a recent trip to meet with some of the folks who run the City of Duvall Public Works Department (CDPWD, for short), I paused to admire the many steel piscatorial sihlouettes adorning the sewer plant overlook area. These beautiful metal creations were fabricated by artist and blacksmith, John A. Hicks of Steelhead Fabrications (Steelheadfab.com).
Sewer treatment facility Fish Arts (FARTs)
FART at the sewage plant, you ask? Absolutely! Salmon and steelhead are indigenous species to our Pacific Northwest (PNW, for short) waters, including the very nearby Snoqualmie River, into which pours MBR-treated effluence from the sewer treatment facility. These fish are an important part of our history and local culture, so much so that the steelhead trout is, in fact, the state fish of Washington. What many laypersons may not realize is that beyond the significance of sport fishing, these fish that return to their natal rivers after a lifetime in the ocean are a very important cog in the biological wheel. When salmon and steelhead die after spawning, their decomposing bodies are like food for the river ecosystem thanks to Marine Derived Nutrients (MDN, for short). In other words, the fish give back for the betterment of all. And so it seems fitting, then, that FARTwork in the likeness of these anadromous salmonids would grace the Duvall facility. But there’s one piece of FART on display that doesn’t quite fit—or, does it?
Brown trout.
Non-native Brown trout
Now, before you roll your eyes and accuse me of engaging in sophomoric “corn-eyed brown trout” humor, bear with me for a moment. A bit of research into the sewer plant FART revealed that the many sculptures include the following species of fish: Steelhead, Male Chinook (spawning), Female Chinook (spawning), Male Sockeye (spawning), and Mature Brown Trout (these descriptive titles come directly from a list provided to me by the CDPWD. There is also a Great Blue Heron and smaller fish in the likenesses of a rainbow trout and immature Bull Trout. All are native species, except the troublesome Brown trout: browns are not native to any water in America, although they do enjoy a widespread distribution thanks to stocking programs of the past.
Turd.
Salmo trutta are in fact a very popular fish among fly anglers, many of whom are fanatical in their quest for a big brown. This Brown trout mania is easily evidenced by countless photos gracing the internet and it’s generally accepted that those seeking to catch the Hawg Brown do so by fishing big streamers. Personally I’ve not yet caught a brown trout worth writing home about, but I have caught a few lesser browns on a “Turd” (Pat’s Rubber Legs, brown). I’m sure they would also hit a Moose Turd, although that’s generally considered a steelhead pattern. All this attention given to Brown trout may be well and good, but it doesn’t answer the big question: Why the presence of a Brown trout at, of all places, a sewer treatment facility? Your guess is as good as mine. I’d like to think that someone simply had a very keen sense of humor.
Looks better, don’t it?
Getting back to the overall presence of FART at the sewage treatment plant, you may be surprised to find artwork of any kind at such an unsavory location. Well, don’t be. Art knows no bounds and appears nearly anywhere in today’s modern world. And Duvall has a very strong artist community so it makes sense, here, to put lipstick on a pig. The only downside to all this is that visitors to the sewage treatment plant may be confused by the presence of FART, thinking that the facility is actually a fish hatchery. Of course that’s clearly not the case, although with just a bit of imagination one could envision rearing ponds teeming with—what else? Brown trout.
Hatchery Brown trout.
Despite the fact that both release diluted crap into our rivers, personally I’d much rather have such a fine sewage treatment facility in town than a fish hatchery. This, however, is neither the place nor time for the anti-hatchery argument—suffice it to say that hatcheries are not very popular with most anglers in these parts. Neither are dams, but I digress…
My friend, Evan Burck, a big wig at Allen Fly Fishing who moved to Duvall not so long ago, had a splendid suggestion:
“We should decorate fish hatcheries with steel cutouts of turds.”
Pop Poop Art. Brilliant.
Until The Washington Department of Fish & Wildlife (WDFW, for short) commissions the Sh#t Art (SHART, for short), we’ll just continue to enjoy what we have here in Duvall. To those for whom a trip to Duvall is out of the question, please enjoy these photos from our wastewater treatment facility, not to be confused with a municipal Brown trout hatchery. As pointed out by another buddy of mine, Derek Young (no, not Derek DeYoung, the FARTist), “It’s the #2 attraction in town.”
Indeed.
Steel steelhead.
Steel male Chinook salmon.
Steel female Chinook salmon.
Steel Sockeye salmon.
Steel immature Bull trout.
Steel Rainbow trout (apparently mishandled).
P.S. Duvall also has Austin Jenckes. He rocks, despite what The Voice concluded.
Mother of all stickers!
In last week’s Weekly Drivel® I came clean and announced that I was done with stickers. If so inclined, my confession can be viewed HERE.
But a clean break is never as easy as it may sound—there are always temptations out there that can test a person’s stickery resolve. Today I received not one, but two tempting offers via email from one “James Scott, Advertising Manager/Hiring Manager for Budweiser Beer, Inc.” The emails were both titled:
Wrap your car with Budweiser Advertisement Wrap and Get Paid…
I’m glad he sent me two emails in case I missed one or the other! In his messages Mr. Scott generously offered me the opportunity to receive $200 per week just for having the Fish Taco slathered bumper to bumper with a Budweiser vehicle wrap. His exact enticement said:
It is Very Easy and Simple with No Application fees required : Here’s how It works – The basic premise of the “paid to drive” concept Budweiser beer seeks people — regular citizens, not professional drivers — to go about their normal routine as they usually do, only with a big advert of “Budweiser” plastered on your car/truck. The adverts are typically vinyl decals, also known as “auto wraps,” that almost seem to be painted on the vehicle, and which will cover any portion of your car’s exterior surface. What does the company get out of this type of ad strategy? Lots of exposure and awareness. The auto wraps tend to be colourful and eye-catching and attract lots of attention. Plus, it’s a form of advertising with a captive audience, meaning people who are stuck in traffic and can’t avoid seeing the wrapped car alongside them.
(Editor’s note to Mr. Scott: Here in America, the word “colourful” has only one “u”)
Mr. Scott undoubtedly read last week’s Drivel and is preying on my weakness. Why, it’s the ultimate sticker AND a chance to get paid handsomely! You can imagine my inner turmoil. As Al Pacino’s character, Michael Corleone in The Godfather III, said:
The program lasts for 3 months, although the minimum period I can participate is 1 month. If my advanced math education serves me correct, I could be paid as much as $2400 if I elect to enroll in this program—stickers and riches! There is no fine print that says I have to actually drive at all during this time period, so I could leave the Beer Batter Fish Taco in the garage, safe from public ridicule (as well as the harsh judgment of Mrs. UA) and still collect my fee. When I do need to run an errand, I can either walk, or, I’ve got my trusty Noped that can get me where I’m going at 23 mph and 100 mpg. But I digress, I’ve always wanted my own beer truck.
This could be me, or you!
This almost sounds too good to be true, Mr. Scott—but I am in, sir!
Wait, what? This is too good to be true?
Car Wrap Scams on the Rise—Beware
Oh well, I did just receive a generous gift of $18,600,000 USD from a nice, terminally ill widow in Europe. Money should be arriving any day now, so who needs vehicle wraps?
The Fish Taco, before even more stickers were applied.
Those who know me, and those who don’t but who have seen the Fish Taco, know that I’ve a certain penchant for stickers. Over the past 4 years the back window of the canopy became slathered with no fewer than a whole bunch of stickers: stickers representing pretty much anything to do with fly fishing, from conservation groups to product manufacturers, shops and guides. I’ve been proud to display said advertisements. Actually, advertisement may be the wrong choice of words—more accurately, by displaying said stickers, I was announcing my allegiance and proclaiming my passion for fish and fishing.
The fly fishing world is a stickery business—I wrote about it a few years ago when the Fish Taco sticker collection was still in its infancy (if so inclined you can read about it HERE). Not everyone likes stickers, and critics of said adornment use arguments such as, “I don’t like to advertise that I may have expensive fly fishing gear in my car.” Or in the case of the predictably unsupportive Mrs. UA, “Grow up.” I’ve always dismissed said critics—I like stickers: they give cause to harken back to simpler times when a gold star or smiley face sticker was reward for having achieved relative greatness, or endured a visit to the dentist. To me, stickers have always represented the positive.
What’s not to like about this?
But slowly, it began to gnaw at me, one sticker at a time…this feeling that perhaps I wasn’t the best ambassador to represent these many entities; that I wasn’t worthy of their display. Was I merely a hack misrepresenting myself as something otherwise? The answer became painfully clear when I recently looked in the mirror, didn’t like what I saw, and asked, “If the tables were turned, would those entities want to be associated with me?”
Tools of a destructive trade.
And so a couple of weeks ago I grabbed my flat razor blade and alcohol-soaked rag and began to wipe the slate clean. Many of the stickers were slightly oxidized from the damaging UV rays of the sun—some were even beginning to peel around the edges. Others of higher quality had stood the test of time and it was those in particular that were harder to remove. Not physically harder, mind you, but emotionally—such a waste of such a fine product. I held back a tear as I peeled, scraped and wiped away the collection of adhesive-backed goodness.
The result is a large area of glass through which I hadn’t been able to fully see in a long time. Only one sticker remains.
A nearly blank slate.
As hard as my decision was, it was the right thing to do. I am, if nothing else, an Unaccomplished Angler and it’s time I quit pretending to be anything else. In my defense I’ve never declared to be anything other than unaccomplished, but the assembly of stickers may have been confusing to others. It’s time I eliminated that confusion and owned up to my fate, fully.
I am what I am: nothing more and nothing less.
What would Andy Rooney think?
I didn’t even know there was a 60 Minutes of the sporting world until I heard of an upcoming episode featuring April Vokey. I promise you I am not posting this for the sole purpose of boosting my Google Stats. I honestly feel that this episode of 60 Minutes Sports is something the readers of the Unaccomplished Angler may enjoy seeing. If you’re like me, however, you won’t get to see it because you don’t subscribe to Showtime. If anyone out there does get Showtime, could you please record it on your VHS and send me a copy of the tape? I’d appreciate it. But please, no Betamax—that technology is so 1975.
Episode airs November 6th at 10PM Eastern/Pacific
