Louisiana, Check

Getting there

When fly fisherfolk gather, the conversation almost always finds its way (after meandering through sidebars of gear, beer, and the opposite sex) to one universal angling topic; the bucket list. Must-do-before-I-die lineups typically include the classics. Kamchatka, New Zealand, Christmas Island, Alaska, Patagonia, Cuba. They are also, with increasing regularity, expanding to the more exotic. Oman, Bolivia, French Polynesia, the Seychelles. Some of our more adventurous practitioners have secret lists, far beyond most of our imaginations. (Heaven forbid Elon Musk finds something that will take a popper on Mars.) And while my personal desires also includes many of the these places, near the top has long been a more domestic destination. I've wanted to chase big bull reds in the southernmost marshes of Louisiana.

Hello Houma.

Good Morning, Louisiana!

As they say in real estate, "Location, location, location"

Fish Camp

Ambushing from the weeds

Steve Martinez hoists a dump truck black

No bulls for me, but lots of slots

Shut up and cast!

The Other Woman

Looks like my fly line

Schnnider Boy, LA

Bayou pit stop

The fishing was tough during our week in the marshes. I look at the pictures above and wonder where those blue skies were when we were actually slinging a fly. Wind and cloud cover gave us a good fight but that's destination angling. Just because it's on your bucket list doesn't mean it will click when you get there. The hardships are part of the game. A true bull eluded me, this time, but Louisiana remains high on the list with a provisional check.

Who says a bucket list item needs to be a once-in-a-lifetime entry?

Actus Reus

First, I humbly thank the handful of you who have reached out to express your dismay and support regarding my recent legal difficulties. Your concerns are deeply appreciated but, I’m afraid to admit, completely unnecessary. Despite the fumus boni iuris nature of the alleged lawsuit, it was completely fictitious. I was not sued. The RFA does not exist. No visit to the Supreme Court was made. (Gorsuch, however, really IS a notorious low holer.) My crimen falsi was simply a misguided attempted to justify my unjustifiably long absence. Mea culpa.

But I must admit that I’ve struggled mightily in deciding whether to print this clarification or to let the story stand, incognita. You see, around here, volenti non fit injuria completely applies.

In plain English, if you read this stuff, you've asked for it.

Legit cave.

On Appeal

Hi. Remember me? I used to write with some regularity in this space. It’s been a while, but now the silence can be broken and the truth behind my absence may finally be told. I was sued.

It's not a pretty story. The RFA (Real Flyfishers Association) slapped me with a cease-and-desist order alleging that I was fraudulently posting as, well, a real fly fisher. Apparently they found a sympathetic judge who had actually seen me cast and the lawsuit was on.

It’s been a long slog, fighting the deep pockets of the RFA, but after numerous appeals and a rigorous climb up the judicial ladder, none other than this great land’s Supreme Court vacated all of the lower courts’ judgments, citing as precedent our present “state of affairs.”

Ginsburg (who throws a pretty mean spey) wrote for the majority:

Given the suitability of the current holders of many of our top governmental positions, Mr. Sepelak should reasonably be allowed to assume the role of a fly fisherman, a brain surgeon, or a ripe avocado for all we care.

Alito (trout-setter) for the minority:

WTF were we talking about?

It was a landmark decision, but a close one, won only because Gorsuch (a notorious low holer) is still having trouble with his buzzer.

However it happened, the result is good news, presumably, to my half-dozen followers here at Mike’s Gone Fishin’, and I hope to be back posting shortly. At the very least, the Photo Bins should get started again, though Photographers United is watching me very, very closely with litigious intent.

Needless to say, it’s good to be out from under the oppressive cloud of adjudication and back to the business of dispensing some serious fly-fishing false news.

Stay tuned, comrades.