I have a little OCD thing that drives me mad if my hands are wet while casting and retrieving. I have found cork to be my answer and I love using it. I built many a rod using those damn cork rings then shaping them on a lathe. Does anyone know how to recondition some cork that is starting to dry out a bit. Maybe some tongue oil or something but I need some help with it if you have any answers. Thanks,

Chris

Eventually, all things merge into one, and a river runs through it. The river was cut by the world's great flood and runs over rocks from the basement of time. On some of the rocks are timeless raindrops. Under the rocks are the words, and some of the words are theirs. I am haunted by waters.

you can rub the cork with bees wax and there are a couple of products available to seal cork. To clean the cork I use either rubbing alcohol or methelated spirits, put some onto a cotton cloth and rub and it lifts all the grime and slime out of the cork leaving it squeeky clean, some people use fine steel wool but I think its to agresive.

Big-Pete

The places where I fish are so secret that even the fish don't know about them

Hey, you patient people have been listening to the ramblings, dry humor and sarcastic attitude of this outdoor writer/ photographer for a few years now. Because of all the travel to the MOTHER state of Montana, I sold the boat a ways back. I have plenty of wading spots but it's time for one of you who have found my comic relief enlightening, hilarious and well whatever, annoying. It's time to let me make you a star. You by the gas. Beers on me. Put me on some tails to shoot. A fish to catch and then fall out of the boat or something comedic relief like that and wallla you are the next star of my shot in florida sprotsman, fly fishing in saltwater, you name it. Bring your lady too, we can make her a star as well.

cwaltersart@yahoo.com

www.flickr.com/photos/sweetligth/sets

Eventually, all things merge into one, and a river runs through it. The river was cut by the world's great flood and runs over rocks from the basement of time. On some of the rocks are timeless raindrops. Under the rocks are the words, and some of the words are theirs. I am haunted by waters.