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Immeasurably, Paul.

Do those who fish Young or Pezon et Michel, or those who fish more recent parabolics
by Thramer, Lancaster, and others accept this assessment? I like fishing my Lancaster
Parabolic 14, usually with small nymphs or emergers, but sometimes with #18 or #20
dry flies. I'm certainly not an expert. For variety's sake, I fish two three different rods
during a day's outing. 7' 4 wt, 7-1/2' 5 wt, 7'9" 5 wt, 8' 5 wt, and 8-1/2' 6 wt are
favorites. The Lancaster 7'9" rod is my only parabolic, and when I fish it after I've been
fishing another rod for a few hours, it doesn't tie me in knots of frustration but is very
pleasant. I never analyzed why. It didn't take much getting used to, it fishes well, and
it's sweet casting. Not very exacting standards, I supose. But Ralph and I have a
rather spotty record of agreement, so I thought I'd mention my joy in one parabolic as an
olive twig if not a full and leafy branch.

Scott took care of all the remaining issues then, did he? I probably wouldn't have tried to
enlist him to my cause and at the same time given a ho-hum report on Grangers, Ralph.
You can see how that went down.

Bobbyg, moderator-baiting is neither fishing nor hunting. You did the right thing to bring it
to this thread, where there is some precedent. But "barely awaiting" an outcome is dicey.
DrakeBob, Dave, and I have mid-Victorian attitudes about nudity carrying over from our
fear of freezing to death in the sauna.

You realize--don't you?--you guys are as hard-to-satisfy, opinionated,
cantankerous, and grumbling a bunch of bamboo fly rod fishermen as
ever populated the net-- in short, absolute gems of the sport. As
to the sauna, dry or wet, I learned as a small boy of four or five, back
in the late 30's (which of course you don't remember because there
are a few wars and the rise and fall of the Nash Rambler intervening
between you and them), I learned that the only thing truly wet in a
sauna was you, as you sweated out your sins. The Finnish bathhouse
(i.e., big sauna) in Lead was owned by my maternal grandmother's
third husband (She outlived the other two). He doubled as minister
of the Finnish Lutheran Church. So therefore I associated a trip to
the sauna with ritual purification and, thank heaven, with the absence
of harsh scrub-and-polish in the bathtub. Not with the sort of thing
that prurient types at the health clubs do now. It isn't that the Finns
in our mining town were unfamiliar with payday sinning or didn't
make genuine efforts to do better at it. It's just that they could never
get the hang of it. And my step-grandfather was constantly after them,
through both the sauna and the pulpit, to live more exemplary lives. I
think they did pretty well by and large. A few died trying. And some,
it is true, fly fished in Spearfish Canyon on Sundays. But there was a
model for every young citizen to follow in the lives they led. Me, for
instance.

Now, Dave, don't you go off in a huff about my kowtowing to Ralph and
to parabolic rods and not come back and learn more about saunas. My
Finnish step-grandfather was especially keen on converting Swedes to the
sauna, after easing them past confusing it with a smokehouse. Sometimes
they could be found sweating it out in both places, the sauna and the church.
And, for all I know, in the smokehouse too. Other times, however, they fished
on Sundays in Spearfish Canyon with my uncle, BackHillsCharlie.