Garage

My garage is now clean. The floor is swept and uncluttered. The punching bag is hung in a place where it no longer interferes with the opening of the garage door. The garage sale stuff is all gone except for a few key things that shall be eBayed for charity. The workbench is cleared off and the tools are put in their right places and ready for work. The lumber is stacked in back and where I can get to it without major moving of boxes and equipment. Most importantly the fishing and boat gear is stowed in the SE corner where it’s easy to take out to the boat or truck prior to a fishing trip and with all of the misceleanea in two giant tupperwares so it stays clear of sawdust and bees.

With the uncluttering of my garage I find my mind beginning to unclutter as well. A problem that had been stewing for a long time, the need to purchase or build a rod drier for the new spey outfit, has finally found a solution in ingenuity and creation rather that consumerism (breaking down and buying a low speed drying outfit). Driving home today I saw the circular plate that needs no pulleys (my first inclination, fraught with questions of tension, traction and dimension), uses a simple locking device for the rod itself and a dirt simple clutch to keep the old Radio-Shack stock high RPM electric motor driving the rotator. I saw it! Even the far end support made out of the old tires from a model airplane that never came together to eleminate the rotational drag on the rod while the extremely low voltage and power motor slows down enough to keep the rod turning at a moderate speed. My mind is pleased by simplicity and elegance. Especially simplicity so to think clearly in this year of stress at work and ridiculous growth is nearly bliss.

Fall approaches and the spey rod sitting in it’s box, unassembled, begins to grow restless. I think often of the Cowlitz and how much more water I hope to cover. She’s incubating and not yet born and like a parent who is expecting already I think of names. Her stature (I don’t know why she’s a she but she is) is larger than life and more stately than her peers, Bender (the first indestructible teacher), Mikayla (lithe and handlesome) and Patience (virtuous and supple). Her name is Athena, goddess of wisdom, cunning and war. With her comes the ancient wisdom of covering water, preserving movement and delivering without a back-cast.

I can already think ahead to the meditative repetetion and movement of steelheading on a large river. The down and across cast and concentration on the swing (just the right speed). Daydreaming has to be metered and limited and the surface of the river and the cobblestones under your feet are known more fully. Other minutia is drowned out.

The rod must be ready by September. My workshop calls, pregnant with potential.