It’s been a while since any content has been published here, but today that changes thanks to Michael Agneta over at Troutrageous. If you were around 10-15 years ago when fly fishing blogs were plentiful and popular(?) you probably remember Troutrageous. It’s also likely that, if you’re old enough to remember this bygone era, you’re too old to remember much of anything.
Mike recently conceived of a project that is sure to spark some memories. He is taking on the task of tracking down old bloggers (some of whom still have their websites online) and playing a bit of catch-up to see where folks are today, what they’ve been up to in the past decade or so, and whether they still fish.
Mike found me propped up in a chair on the patio at the retirement home; hooked up to an oxygen tank and wrapped in a blanket to stave off the chill of a late May Day; a plaid Stormy Chromer (flaps down to cover my ears) warmed my balding dome. My gaze was focused on something in the distance, though through foggy, cataract-shrouded lenses I’m not sure what it was: probably just a common sparrow. Around my neck hung an old pair of Sears and Roebuck binoculars and a dog-eared copy of a guide book to North American birds rested on my lap. In one hand was clutched an old, worn copy of Fly Rod & Reel magazine (another bygone publication of yore). Mike introduced himself, gently shook my skeleton-like, liver-spotted hand and asked if I wouldn’t mind taking a few minutes to field some questions. I told him lunch was being served soon and that I didn’t want to miss the day’s split pea soup and grilled cheese. But I agreed to give him a few minutes.
The result of our brief time together is the following “interview”. Thanks to Mike for taking the time to dredge up old memories of a time when fly fishing bloggers were Kings and Queens just about anybody could be a fly fishing blogger if you paid for hosting fees.
As Mike departed for the airport where his private Troutrageous jet awaited to whisk him off to the next stop on his reunion tour, I raised the binoculars to my blurry eyes and took one last glance at the movement in the distance. To my delight there it was—what I’d been hoping to see for quite some time—a Yellow-Rumped Warbler. A single tear dripped from my eye. Must have been due to pollens.
