The Open Fly is no longer open
If you’re not from the Seattle area, the above photo may mean nothing to you. If you lived here then, you likely remember. Here’s the backstory on that sign: Will the last person leaving Seattle turn out the lights.
Maybe you didn’t even know about the Open Fly Podcast, or maybe you didn’t care. Either way, this is to let you know that our final show was posted in February.
When we recorded Episode 31 we had no idea it would be our last. Yes, we knew some changes were coming, since Derek had already uprooted his family and moved east of the mountains to be closer to his home waters on the Yakima River. But we didn’t realize that the physical studios of the Open Fly Podcast would be placed on the real estate market shortly thereafter. You see, Evan is also leaving town. That leaves only me, the official Third Chair of the Open Fly podcast, who remains here in the Snoqualmie Valley. I’m like the resident trout that never ventures far and chooses to live out his life in the local river, whereas Derek and Evan are like salmon, who were here for a while and then spawned and died. OK, maybe that’s not quite the appropriate analogy. Maybe they’re like steelhead, who were here for a while, spawned, and then left to venture back out to sea again. Whatever. I’m still here.
They are not.
I feel so alone.
We had a good run, had us some fun and along the way we met some great folks and talked about some worthy conservation issues. Maybe we even brought some issues to your attention, which means we did our small part for the betterment of fisheries all around the country and even into Canada (sorry for the Canadian jokes, Canada).
While there will be no new shows (unless one day we can schedule a reunion tour) the shows we did record will last as long as Evan keeps paying the web hosting bills. So go on back through the archives, pour yourself a soothing International Coffee, and listen to what’s there. Chances are the issues we discussed are still relevant: The Open Fly Podcast
I’ll be doing the same, and crying into my bowl of soup as I do. Rest assured it’ll be chunky soup—something that requires a fork.