The Photo Bin - January 2018

I've let these Photo Bins get away from me and, frankly, I miss them. It's probably no coincidence that the volume of my writing has also dropped off. Wandering through the images that fall out of the camera always gets my mind turning. Not being one who can make up storylines or create circumstances from scratch, I need the stimulus of images or experiences - and preferably the two intertwined - to put words to paper. (What an quaint, anachronistic reference in these digital times, words to paper, though I still do it.)

So how about we return to the practice and see if we can't get back on track here at Mike's Gone Fishin'. Spring's coming and a little rebirth is definitely in order. Ironically, this month's bin is anything but Spring-like.

We don't get big snows very often here in the heart of Carolina, and rarely are they as genuinely beautiful as what we were graced with this January. Full-bodied. Graceful. Lasting. Winter's not my thing but I was enthralled. I took a shovel-load of pictures so this month's bin is knee-deep. Hope you enjoy it. I certainly did.

Neither snow nor rain nor heat nor gloom of night stays these couriers from the swift completion of their appointed rounds. Now, my wandering the half-mile down the ridge to the mailbox was another matter, even in this first light dusting.

The evergreens strutted their stuff when the days went grey.

The houseplants gathered around the windows to peer out at the snow and to give thanks that they're, well, house plants.

The deer fencing surrounding the garden turned into a white wall and the only color in the back yard was the Sarah Graham sunflower that defies any the weather.

Piled high and deep in snow, we watched a bevy of bluebirds hunker down in the box together...

...as we did ourselves as the flakes continued to fall.

In due time our Carolina blue skies returned, but it stayed icebox cold. The sun, bold as it was, made little headway towards a thaw.

The mornings remained crip, the rising sun piercing, for the better part of a week.

The hero of the week, Zeppelin came to the aid of the fallen snow angel.

And for a few days, all was at peace.

What is a Photo Bin?

The Photo Bin - April 2017

It has occurred to me that I have been taking myself too seriously for too long and this poor little blog has suffered for it. I've fallen into the trap of wanting, needing, everything I post to be slick, well developed, and (dare I say) publishable. Wanting it to be remarkable. But by adding that pressure, I've throttled things to the point where posts have become few and far between. The twin ironies are that even my best work isn't all that hot anyway and that by holding out for "the good stuff," I'm not writing anything (which doesn't do a hell of a lot to help advance the craft). I've not even kept up the Photo Bins.

Herewith, I'm shaking off the pretension and getting back to just putting it out there. It's that or stop altogether and I don't think I'm quite ready for that. As this is the April bin (and it's August already), there's some catching up to do, so let's get started.

In April, the camera always fills with the extravaganza that is the annual Live Free Cornhole Tournament, a loving fundraiser for the memorial scholarship that we maintain at Georgia Tech in my step-son's name. Friends and family gather to share loads of fond memories, good fellowship, and just a bit of friendly competition, all in Freeman's honor. Together we miss him and keep alive the event he started as a simple gathering of friends to celebrate the arrival of spring. In his absence, we've repurposed it in his memory.

The brave few that held out to the bitter end

That's a start. A slow month, April, but things got a bit crazy in May, June, and July. Their bins to follow here shortly. Then maybe I'll be back on track.

Maybe.

What is a Photo Bin?

The Photo Bin: 2Q2017 - Beaver Island Suspects

Scott Thompson: That Feeling

True story (and I say that because around here one can never be sure), I had a dream last night that I was flying to Alaska to fish. At the end of my commercial airline ordeal, as I awaited the arrival of the Beaver to take me on my final leg, I discovered that my duffle was half empty (or half full, I never know which) and I stood on the tarmac trying to decide if I had been robbed or had simply forgotten to finish packing before departure. The latter seemed more likely.

What was packed was my camera, and, despite the tender care that my luggage had undoubtedly received in the hands of the gorillas in Delta’s baggage management division, my unprotected Nikon had bounced around in all that unfilled storage space such that the lens now looked like a half-crushed PBR can. The poor thing was toast and it occurred to me that it was going to be a long, boring week on the water. Never mind that I had no wading boots or shirts to wear (I remember those things specifically as missing), I was not going to be taking any pictures.

Steve Martinez: The big man's in the boat

Obviously, this glut of photos has been playing with my mind, even in my sleep. More specifically, trying to figure out how to trot out this pile of material without completely overwhelming the reader and cooking my laptop’s motherboard in the process. (I’ve heard it’s poor little cooling fan kick in during this past week’s marathon Lightroom sessions with startling regularity).

I’ve landed on the idea of groupings of five. A series of posts, each containing five images, that revolve around some theme. I have no idea what those themes will be. We’ll just have to see as we go along. As for how many there will be, we’ll just have to see that too. (You can tell that I’ve given this lots of thought.)

I fear more anxiety dreams are on the way.

Alex Landeen: Looking to the sky (and the man on the platform) for a little rain relief

Prepared or not, I’d better get started. Ignoring any coherent chronological sequencing of the events and images from the past three months, interspersed in this post has been a quick rogues gallery of my companions from our just completed carp adventure on Beaver Island. It’s a bit of a cheat as they have already been posted on my Instagram feed (yes, I’ve fallen down yet another social media rabbit hole), but for the sake of efficiency…

Kevin Morlock: Can't keep a good guide down

For the photo barrage to come, my apologies.

Cameron Mortenson: The Man and His Island

That goes double for the mugs in this gallery.

What is a Photo Bin?

The Photo Bin - March 2017

Yes, you read the title correctly. Here we are, a week into June, and I'm just getting around to a March photo bin. For quite some time the bins have been carrying the load around here and now I can't even be counted on to do them in a timely manner. Sad. But the good news is that a part of the issue is that I've been busy. Fishing, no less. That can only be good.

Let's go back a bit and catch up, then, starting with an escape to the islands (South Andros, to be exact), the only really significant photo op of the month. And I'll make up for the lack of expediency with quantity.

There's something inspiring about an image framed by an overhead wing, especially when it's taken on your way in. Small aircraft and remote fishing destinations get my blood pumping, especially as the clouds clear and I see miles and miles of salt flats, just waiting to be waded.

And the airports these small planes frequent beat the heck out of the hustle and bustle of the internationals. Here, Jeff struggles through the crowd at the main entrance of Congo Town's busy airport. You can feel the tension.

Our ultimate destination? The Andros South Lodge. Bonefishing. Mighty fine bonefishing.

And we wasted no time getting on the water. Here Steve stands ready, despite a stiff breeze. If you're not ready to deal with the wind, stay off the flats. It's not a question of whether it will blow or not. It's a question of how much. Day 1 the answer was a lot. Damn permit. (Inside joke. Sorry.)

Day 2, and most of the days that followed, started with a run up the Little Creek narrows. As good a wake-me-up routine as there could possibly be. Put it on plane and blow out the cobwebs.

Side note, I'm proud to have this image (along with a couple of others in the bin below) included in The Flyfish Journal's terrific photo essay BahamaCon 17, a fun compilation of the photography, words, and video from our week in the islands, mostly shot by the uber-talented Copi Vojta. If you haven't seen it yet, it's definitely worth the time.

Mr. Barracuda didn't have such a good day, though, fooled by a big, ugly popper. Jason probably saved a few bonefish's days bringing this rascal to dock.

And speaking of coming to dock, at the end of every fishing day as we came off the water, we (and every other South Andros angler) stepped out of the skiff and into (or around) The New Ocean View, the focal point and gathering place of all manner of South Andros social life. Good times, outside and in.

Andrew and Kyle (our hosts at the South Andros Lodge) and Steve and Copi get their first post-fishing beers.

Kyle and Copi retire inside, out of the sun for a bit.

I've come to the conclusion that the best way to chase bonefish is to wade for them. Maybe not the most productive approach, numbers wise, but for sheer immersion in the world of the flats, it can't be beat. Here, Jason and Torrie scope out a promising piece of water from behind mangrove cover. See any tails? Nervous water? Stirred up mud?

And speaking of mud, we walked away from some of the fishiest looking flats imaginable because Torrie shook his head and "too clean." His club (and his incredible fish-finding style) ain't called The Dirty South for nuthin'.

And it's all about these guys. This poor fella slunk away with a sore lip, but he'd get over it before too long.

Perhaps one of the most iconic images of Bahamian bonefishing is the beached skiff out behind the South Andros Lodge, used by legions of anglers to polish up their casting strokes in preparation for the real thing. Painted rocks at 12:00. Moving slow.

After a full day and great dinner, we typically spent more than a fair share of our afterhours here, at the beach fridge, and bar, behind the lodge. A story or two were told. A dark-and-stormy or three were consumed.

And sober, dark-and-stormy, or whatever, this ring swing baffled me. The contest was How many hookups can you get in ten tosses? I played it like How many tens of tosses does it take to get a hookup? Sorta like my bonefishing, now that I think about it.

And the wee hours, back at the lodge. A few kahlik-clad dead soldiers stand guard on the tables, some boots dry before an early departure.

The next morning's breakfast gets planned.

Perhaps my favorite image of the week. The morning after. To steal someone else's line (and if I could remember who's it was I'd acknowledge it, but, with such a crew full of such wonderful writers, it could have been anyone's observation), a caveman theater.

A final look off the bow, the sun rising on our fly out day. The rocks still tailing at 12:00.

A less inspiring aerial view as we return to the continent. Fort Lauderdale sprawl doesn't hold a candle to Andros flats, but it does mean that home's just one more jump away. That's always a good thing.

That'll do for now. Sorry for the delay. But it was fun for me to go back and enjoy the trip, so all is not lost. The April bin should follow shortly with May's shortly thereafter.

So many pictures. So little time.

What is a Photo Bin?

The Photo Bin - February 2017

Catching up, here. The February bin is brief. Not much was done with the cameras, or much of anything else, outside of the single significant event of the month.

Thank you, Duke Hospital. She's doing great.


What is a Photo Bin?

The Photo Bin - January 2017

To demonstrate how truly disconnected I've been from the usual routines, it's three weeks into March and I'm just getting to the January photo bin. Hell, I don't even remember taking these pictures. Okay, not true. But it feels like it.

At this point, it might have been easy to just let it go but this post kicks off the seventh year of Photo Bins. Blows my mind. A throw-away concept that has stuck around and, let's face it, carried the blog on and off for some time now. The bin makes me good for at least a post a month so I guess that I'd better keep it going.

The shot above is one of those images that comes together through the combination of a little inspiration, a little luck, and a little twist of perception. A big white oak and Carolina blue skies reflected in the salamander pond above the house. Cool stuff.

A standard shot for the January bins - our New Year's gathering of crazies. For nine years running, on the first day of the year, we've gathered at the neighborhood pond and, on the stroke of noon, take a quick bracing plunge. My thanks to buddy Paul for holding my camera for this one. I don't think the image stabilization was good enough to overcome my shivering.

A couple weeks later, the full wolf moon. You can practically hear the howls in the distance.

And it's about time I started wrestling this blog back to its intended purpose. It is, after all, Mike's Gone Fishin' so let's get back to the fishing already. Right? How about we start with the first outing of the year, a quick run north to The Smith, Virgina, and a good day spent bending the 5wt with my buddy Darrin. A nice beginning to the fishing year.

And then a couple of days east, poling the tidal creeks of Swansboro in search of schooling reds. Unfortunately, school was out so we just nicked a few speckled trout and called it a weekend. Tip of the hat to my host Troy for another good outing, fish or no.

Perhaps the best catch of the month, though, was this fine piece of leatherwork handcrafted by my new friend Lee Slikkers. Combines two of my passions into a single unique piece. Lee's a man of many talents so check out his beautiful creations, both leather and bamboo, at www.slikkerssplitcane.com. Fine leather goods and bamboo rods. Don't get no better.

Well, that does it for now. Short and sweet. Catching up. Thanks for your patience. We'll get things going again here soon enough.

I promise.


What is a Photo Bin?