Fish Won This Round

 

Dallas is home to North America's largest urban forest, run through by the Trinity river. You can meet the stream close to downtown, from Oak Cliff. Go East on Davies, drive over I 35, go a little further and take a left at a machine shop next to Donato's Convenience.

The road soon degenerates into a potholed track, so count yourself lucky you've got a 4x4 truck, seriously, don't do this in a regular car in May or maybe any other rime. Ride over, disembark near the river and walk in under the DART and old Santa Fe trestle bridge.

This used to be a grand multimillion dollar experiment in turning the Trinity into a recreational fun park, complete with faux rapids, concrete walkways, signs telling you what to do and so on, Moore Park. Great plan, didn't go down so well. The faux rapids, which destroyed the banks of the river but provided great fishing, are gone. The signs scrawled over with gang graffiti and the paths overgrown, DART roars overhead.

But don't be dismayed, recce down to the muddy river and look East, into the primeval entrance to the forest. Scout the banks for likely looking spots and set up in shade to try your best against the piscine adversary. Worms, "crappie bites," topwater lures, no avail. And go figure, you don't know the water, still, fun trying.

Then, just beyond casting reach, behold schools of Gar thrash and leap in search of prey. I tried to get to them but failed, there was a mudflat in between, which I skidded across like a monkey. Well, next time. And there you have it, fishing the Trinity. This time the fish won, they won't be so lucky on the return match.

That aside, so good to get out in the country, even if it was in the middle of town.

Fish on,

LSP

Back in Dallas

 

What's Dallas like in the August of Plague Year 2020? Good question, and I drove to the Metrosprawl to find out. First things first, it's really hot, like an oven. The kind of heat which makes even the coolest perspire. Think FBI Koup Konspirators in the face of Clinesmith.

Oh dear, Nemesis meet Hubris and we have to ask, what kind of plea deal has corrupt lib lawyer Clinesmith cut by way of survival? Time will tell and Comey, Clapper, Brennan et al seem mighty quiet right about now. No wonder, the heat's on. 

But Ma LSP's place is refreshingly cool. The garden flourishes, flags wave along with refreshing drinks and a newly cleaned 19th C runner. I think it's Caucasian, but I've forgotten my rug lore. Whatever, out it popped. Nice.

And there you have it. We're off to a friend's ordination tomorrow morning. Well done, MR, you're a brave man to answer the call at this point in time.

Cheers,

LSP

The Sign of the Bull

You might think that the above picture was some run of the mill, third-world hellhole. But no, it's just South Dallas; I used to get 'steak and potato' at the Charco Broiler under the fiberglass bull. It cost around $6 a decade ago and still does, so that's reassuring. If you adjust your body armour and walk down the road a bit you get to 'Senor Ramone's', where they cut your hair.

LSP: "Look at all that grey!"
Barber: "No, no! It is blond!"
LSP: "Ah yes, so it is. Keep the change."

I like Ramone's well enough but wouldn't recommend the Broiler.

In other news, it seems as though Pope Benedict's offer of an 'Ordinariate' for trad Anglicans in Canada has been  "put on hold". Following the departure of their parent body, ACoC, into the icy vastness of deep space, earthbound Canadians set up the ACCC (Anglican Catholic Church of Canada). This voted to join B16's larger vessel last year but so far nothing's happened. Maybe now it won't - whose fault will it be if it doesn't?

To be fair to the Vatican, the 'A Triple C' wasn't as unanimous about the project as their vote seemed to indicate... Whatever the case, you can watch this painfully slow moving story unfold at Virtueonline.

Cheers,

LSP