Outside the inch-thick ballistic glass windows of the Trout Underground/Man Cave World Headquarters, snow is falling.

A a couple inches of it. At the very tail end of April.

The birds are pissed.

It’s the kind of absurdity you can only laugh at, which is a good thing, because I laughed so hard I dropped the revolver I had pointed at my head.

And I’m not the only California fly fisherman with a growing distaste for snow.

The white stuff’s like the irritating house guest who just can’t quite grasp the hints tossed their way: It’s time to leave. Really.

Meanwhile, the Underground’s been huddled deep in The Cave, working night and day in a desperate attempt to support Little M’s toy addiction habit.

It’s not necessarily a bad time for the 24 Hours of Work thing; the Upper Sac’s running better than 5000 cfs, which renders large swaths of it unfishable.

Still, all work and no play pretty much makes TC a dull, irritated, ill-tempered boy (try me).

And – as some of you have noticed – the Underground’s been running slowly enough that another move to a different web host is probably on my horizon. And we all know how that went last time.

And once all this damn snow stops falling and gets busy melting, there will eventually be fishing. Lots of it.

See you at the 50 Hottest Victoria Secret Models of All Time Weather Channel, Tom Chandler

Update: A clear sign of the coming apocalypse: It’s hailing. Hard. I’ll update this post again when the earth opens up and locusts pour out.