No one’s ever accused me of challenging Stephen Hawking in terms of sheer brainpower, but I am smart enough to know that – three weeks into May – I shouldn’t see the Wonderdog slipping on the icy patches covering our back porch.

With more bad weather heading our way, and yes – the snow level is forecast to fall below TU/Man Cave World Headquarters this weekend (it’s hailing right now) – I’m doing the only thing I can to forestall madness.

I’m going fly fishing.

I own plenty of cold-weather gear (with a high of 39 degrees in the forecast, I’m going to need it), though it should have been packed away upwards of a month ago.

And no, I’m not saying where I’m going.

Mobs of screaming groupies spook the trout, and since my hand-scribbled, eyes-only map involves a new, unfished-by-me stretch of a small stream, I’m going to man up and simply say the following: I don’t want to share.

After all, small streams don’t benefit from publicity and crowds the same way panty-less starlets do.

And another admission: I’ve heard the words “up to 16-inch trout” whispered in connection with this small stream.

Phrases like that tend to induce lockjaw – if not outright hostility towards the rest of humanity.

That’s just the way it is.

In other words, expect a lot of smiles – and heavily doctored photographs.

Meanwhile, The Invasion Begins

The stoneflies are crawling over Dunsmuir in siege-like numbers, and one wag suggested it seemed like a prelude to an invasion (yes, they’re that ugly).

Fly fishermen love the things for the effect they have on trout, but even we can’t quite bring ourselves to say they’re cute – especially when one lands on the back of your neck.

Sadly, the Upper Sacramento’s running pretty high.

The locals are mostly waiting things out, though you can fly fish the Upper Sacramento – if you’re willing to walk a lot and pick your spots.

The payoff could be the biggest dry fly trout of the year.

It could also be a speeding ticket if you drive here – CHP is continuing their aggressive enforcement efforts on I5, so make cruise control your friend.

Today’s Fish Story

Fred Gordon – local guide and kickass ceramic fish maker (you don’t necessarily see those two phrases stuck together that often) – told me he was fishing the McCloud last week when he stuck a good fish, which he promptly broke off.

Frankly, I was relieved.

I’m not the only one who breaks fish off, but Fred didn’t tell the story to make me feel better about my shortcomings as a fly fisherman.

It runs out he wandered a good 100 yards upstream – through some rapid bits and another run – and ten minutes later, hooked and landed the same trout.

The fly he’d just tied on and lost was stuck in the trout’s jaw, as was a couple inches of leader.

At the Underground, we report, you shake your head and wonder.

The Weather Videos

In honor of the cruelest spring I’ve experienced in the 11 years I’ve lived here, I’m throwing Bonus Underground Content your way – a pair of weather-related videos that feature not a single fly fisherman.

The first is an entirely apocalyptic video from Oklahoma, where hailstones the size of baseballs barrage someone’s back yard.

It starts sanely enough, but at the one minute mark, things get a little crazy. At 1:45, I caught myself ducking underneath own desk.

All I can say is this: I’m glad didn’t have a car parked anywhere in Oklahoma that day.

Video two is today’s kinder, gentler entry – a nature video about frazil ice in Yosemite valley.

Some call it the slush hatch, and dammit – I’d love to see someone get a nymph through that stuff. Fascinating in a Sir Richard Attenborough way.

Finally – in yet another Surprise Bonus Video We Intentionally Didn’t Tell You About So It Would Remain a Surprise - comes something we found via Moldy Chum: Dennis Leary with a fly rod.

Frankly, if this scene had been subbed in place of the “shadow casting” scene from A River Runs Through It, fly fishing would still be the tiny, backwards sport it used to be.

Damn.

See you on a small stream (unless I see you first), Tom Chandler.