The Portland Midnight MPR League (“PMML” on the street) was born from a desire for something more, something that would be remembered, something that would etch the names of the brave into the hearts of a city longing for heroes.

The PMML is secretive, its members few. The exploits of the group on the dark and lonely streets of Stumptown are future legend. For now, the PMML prefers to operate in the shadows, appearing only to cast their fierce—if fluffy—lines upon the asphalt, and then vanishing once again.

I recently joined the ranks of the PMML, initiated by the two founding members, Brian ‘Spey Nynja’ Chou, and Matt ‘Karp Killa’ Klara. I had to prove myself on a difficult uphill course—in a headwind. Even under the soft glow of the street lamps, the markers of previous MPR record casts were stark and daunting. Each was etched in place alongside the names of their owners: a ‘Nynja’ here, a ‘Karp’ there.

The MPR set-up was, as you would expect, anything but stock. A full-on, “Midnight Special,” shooting head with 50 feet of 15-pound running line took the normally safe and predictable MPR to a whole new level. The fluff was still there, but the chop-job made it meaner, faster and harder to control at the limit.

The tensions of the night were palpable as I stepped up to make my mark. Nerves, wind and an unsympathetic audience made my first casts well short of my hoped-for distance. A murmur among the watchers made me realize that I had better step up my game or I was going to be going home (or worse). I decided then to reveal what had long been a secret, even among those who ply the seedy underbelly of the casting world: “The Shaolin Slice.”

Developed in my casting pool days when I lived in urban Los Angeles, the Slice is used only in extreme situations, and then only sparingly. It can obliterate the shoulders of those not fully prepared for its complexity and focused power, but when performed right, there is, to quote a famous movie, “no defense.”

The moment was right, the Slice carved the night air as if space and time were standing still, and the record fell. I had done it, my initiation was complete. I was now one of them, one of the shadowy heroes that a city longs for, one of the PMML.

I can only say so much at this point, but I can tell you that the PMML has only begun its work here. There is much to come—more casts, more records to make (and break), and more daring to be done with little more than yarn, monofilament and a desire for lasting fame on streets that never sleep.

Keep watching…