Change in Plans

I had planned on getting some fishing in.  The weather kind of changed that.  I can fish in the snow but not when it's windy.  I did get out with the kids though. 

My mother was visiting the mountains and I really wanted her to catch a trout with a fly rod.  Yesterday we hit a local trout stream that usually gets hammered by locals and tourists.  To my surprise the park was uncrowded most likey due to the weather.  By the time we arrived it had warmed up consirably.  The wind had stopped and there was no snow on the ground.  I showed my mother the basics of nymphing and sure enough in and hour she had caught 3 fish.  Not bad for her first time.   I was almost skunked but hooked a trout on my last cast.  It was a great weekend.

Good Day with Friends

Tried a new river with some friends yesterday.   The morning didn't start off all that great.  I'm kind of a plan freak.  I'm decent about planning but when things change something always gets screwed up.  I had planned to drive and have some people ride with me.  As we were figuring things out a friend said we all could probably fit in his car.  I felt we were kind of running behind already so I grabbed my stuff out of my car as quickly as possible.  Sure enough about 40min into the ride we start talking and a guy pulls out his fly box.  I go to get mine out of the back and I don't see my pack.  I left it in my car!  Luckily I was with others and kept my composure because I just wanted to cuss for about 5minutes.  I think every fisherman has a certain bond with "THEIR" gear.  There is a comfort in knowing what you have and using your own tools.   I knew people would lend me flies and things but I was so mad about forgetting my stuff I just sat and steamed for a bit.  I figured this was maybe a sign that today I needed to help the beginners and fishing will be secondary.   When we arrived at the stream I geared up borrowed 4 flies and some pliers and clippers and we headed out.

From Fall

From Fall

From Fall

From Fall

From Fall

From Fall

From Fall

From Fall

From Fall

The day turned out great and I probably had the most fun watching others catch fish as I did catching them myself.

From Fall

This was one of the few trips I've organized. I like doing it but I always feel uneasy when the questions come up on how to do things. The people asking me are new to fly fishing and many times they think I am a far greater fly fisherman than I actually am. I want to tell them the right way but what exactly is the right way? I only know my way. On the stream a friend was missing hook ups and I gave her some advice. She said "I was told by a guide you're supposed to do this." My response was do whatever catches fish. What a guide tells you might work that day on that stretch of river for those fish but elsewhere you may have to change your tactics. That was how the day was for the rest of us. The fish were hitting very subtle and the takes were almost unnoticeable. The indicator would either stop or honestly you'd just guess or see some slight irregular bob in the current. It was a learning experience for all of us. The challenge made the experience even more fun.

Dumb Fish

In Jurassic Park the main characters avoided the T-Rex by holding still. I can relate a lot to the T-Rex because when I'm fishing I look for any movement what so ever. A familiar silver flash, a irregular break in the current, the sound pattern of the water changing because of a sploop sound. All of these are ques for me to find fish. I once talked about sight fishing for trout with a guide. I went into detail about one of my favorite scenarios. It starts out with spotting the fish from a distance then working my way into position and make what I think is a perfect cast and the fish seems to follow my actions like a puppet. The guide listened intently then said "You know most intelligent fish won't hang out in the open like that. That's not a very efficient survival behavior. That fish was probably mentally ill."  At first I didn't know whether to take offense to the comment or agree with his logic. One great thing about seeing fish is you can watch their behavior when your fly comes near them. This gives you a great insight and knowledge to things that are many times hidden from view. For me these are some of the best times. It's like watching an interactive show that is only on display for you. The fish may follow your fly down stream or strike at it instantly. The best is watching a fish charge your fly or follow it with a vengeance. The fish might make several slashes maybe one out of hunger but probably more likely out of anger. The whole ordeal is fascinating and I never get tired of it.

Yesterday I fished a Designated Harvest trout stream. Hatchery trout often get the label of ignorant will hit anything, are no challenge, any one can catch them fish. The scenario I faced is why these fish get this label. Sometimes after stocking the fish will not leave the general area. In one place I check out rarely the fish literally do not leave with in 100yds of where they are stocked. Of course you get a few that are smart and decide to skedaddle to safer areas but the majority sit back and watch as many of their friends are hauled away involuntarily. Maybe they are comforted by the friend being thrown back minutes later, hopefully unharmed. I approached one section and my expectations were met with anglers standing just far enough to not be in each others cast. You could see the fish from the trail hanging out in glass pools where any osprey or eagle could pluck them for lunch. I was amazed that one usually popular spot was open for fishing. I walked in the water not worrying too much about stealthy wading. In the run I could see purple objects that stood out from the river rocked bottom. Those are the trout and they are what everyone is here for. I tried to go some what classy first. I consider myself a decent fly fisherman and even though I don't think I'm above using wooly buggers I wanted to try catching fish with a midge pattern or something insect like first.  I had no indicators so that would add to the challenge some too. I used a dropper set up and after I missed a few hits and figured out the drift I had a fish on. The trout didn't fight very hard and it gave up with in seconds.

  That is another thing about DH fish since they are released and fished so heavily it's not uncommon to catch a fish that has been caught a couple times earlier in the day. This causes the fish to become super fatigued and they don't fight well. After a few trout the fish seemed to ignore my fly. Another common thing for DH fish. Many times if you change the fly you'll catch a few more and you repeat this pattern. This day I decided to take it a whole different way. The fish are considered dumb but lets think about this. These fish have been raised to think humans are what feeds them. On top of that most of these fish probably associate people with food. Does that make them dumb or a victim of circumstance? As I pondered this I thought about the food part and pretty much how these fish think.  They will most likely hit anything they think is food or just out of curiosity. I had a fly my friend tied me for smallmouth. This thing was about 2 1/2 inches long with dumbbell eyes and rubber legs.

Not your average trout fly. I cast that out and on my second cast I had my biggest fish of the day. I could see everything, my fly hitting the water, the action of how my strips made the fly work. I saw the fish charge from the bottom and slam the fly. This fish seemed fresh like it hadn't been caught before. It was a plump 13inch brookie and it was starting to show its fall colors. I had so much fun with that experience I fished with the clouser the rest of the morning. I realized this a long time ago but it was made more evident that morning that visual fishing for me is where it's at. It is no wonder why I love sight fishing so much. Popper fishing for bass, blue gill top water fishing, carp flats fishing and sight fishing for trout. So for me bring on the dumb fish. I can have fun catching them all day.

Lots Going On

There is a lot going on right now. I just got back from San Diego and I'm starting a new job. It's always stressful going from something comfortable to something new and out of your comfort zone.  I am adjusting. I won't be able to fish at lunch anymore which kind of sucks but I'll live. Reflecting on this year has been very interesting. This has been by far my best fishing year ever. I have caught many new species and even my first salt water fish.  I'm excited to see what else the year has to bring. I'm hoping to get out and fish this weekend.  It all depends on the weather. Fall is definitely on it's way. The temp has dropped at least 10 degrees and is on the steady decline. I'm hoping fish will be trying to fatten up before it gets too cold.

Troubled Waters

My father has had serious health problems recently. They have gotten so bad the doctor told me if I want to visit him I need to do it now. He was showing signs of dementia and his organs were shutting down. I made the quick decision to fly out to San Diego and visit him. The day I landed I spent the afternoon and evening at the hospital. My father looked pale and seemed to be in some pain but his mind seemed ok. The nurses would often ask him if he remembered his name, where he was and the year. He could answer all of the questions fine. After the nurses left I decided to ask him a few questions. The first was what was my wifes name, then the grandkids. He couldn't name them but he behaved like they were on the tip of his tongue and he just couldn't come up with the words. Then I asked if he could tell me his dad's name. He struggled and I could see in his eyes the confusion and fear of understanding that he should know this information but can't come up with it. This really bothered me and I decided to stop asking questions because it was only going to stress us both out. While I was in San Diego I decided I'd go fishing to keep my sanity. There was a recent power outage that caused a huge sewage spill into the ocean. It covered a large area. I was able to go north of it but I probably still fished in water that was contaminated.

When I got to the parking lot it was a welcoming sight. Only a few cars were seen and the people getting out were metal detector nerds. They scour the sand looking for buried treasure or some person who was unlucky enough to drop a diamond ring. I got my gear ready and occasionally checked over my shoulder for other anglers. As I finished rigging my rod and headed towards the beach I didn't see another soul fishing.  There were people enjoying the darkness before sunrise. Joggers and tourists gawking at the waves rolling in. I had stopped by the So Cal Fly Shop the day before to get some information and flies. They had a fly box full of popular surf patterns for $20. I thought that was a pretty good deal. I felt some what prepared but I still didn't have any idea of what I was doing. I cast out parallel to the waves rolling in and realized the name of the game was line management. It was hard to keep the line straight and have a good feeling of where the fly was at. Waves would catch the sinking line and jerk it out to the ocean or make it go slack sliding the fly towards shore. It was frustrating but I kept working at it. I couldn't see any sign of life in the water. I was told to fish ankle deep water. It was hard to discipline myself to stick to that. The waist deep water looked so inviting and that had to be where the bigger fish were. Seeing a wake and two good size fish breech the surface and escape to deeper water changed my thinking. The fish I was going for was called a Corbina. 

The fish looks similar to a drum. They spook very easy and are hard to sneak up on. Honestly I'd see most of them at the same time they spotted me. They'd disappear in a cloud of mud. The fish would ride in with the surf and hang out in depressions in the sand. I tried all of the flies I had bought. I thought many times that I had a hit but I couldn't really tell. The current was playing with my line. I tried casting at all angles. Towards the ocean, away from it, parallel. I really felt lost. Then a perch decided to throw me a bone. I felt the familiar tap on the end of my line. I set the hook and the fish felt like a bluegill. I was over joyed. This was my first saltwater fish caught on a fly.

From Summer'11

The fish was more colorful than the picture shows. Even with the enjoyment of what I had accomplished my mind couldn't shake the true reason I was in San Diego. I went back to the hospital and fished again in the afternoon but it didn't feel right. My mind couldn't concentrate and the frustrations with the current and line were getting to me. I didn't fish again while I was there and spent the rest of the time with family and at the hospital. My father's memory went in and out. At times he could remember the names of the people I had asked him earlier. Then other times he could remember the month but not the year. Or he could remember the year but not the date.  The whole thing was kind of sad. The doctors couldn't find anything major wrong with him. The theory is he's had a couple strokes which are causing the memory problems. Honestly it could be a lot of things. Years of a hard life and diabetes are catching up to him. The hardest part of this trip was the true meaning for me. I looked at it as my time to say good bye. I think in a few months my father will not know who he is anymore or may not live past the year. We were never very close but it's still sad to see anyone go this way.  

My First Roanoke Bass

Sometimes you're not just trying to catch a fish. You are trying to catch thee fish. I've been chasing Roanoke Bass for quite some time now. They are fairly rare but people do occasionally catch them on the Eno River. What I could never understand was how beginners seem to always have luck when it came to catching them. I hit he river yesterday with some friends. The water seemed to have even more hydrilla then the last time.  The green weeds choked the water and only provided one small lane that was free of debris. The fish were few and far in between. I did find a sunfish here and there but the fishing was really poor for the Eno. There was one section in particular that looked dead and void of life.  The bottom was covered in a thin blanket of silt. While wading I never even saw the shadow or movement of fish being spooked. I started to wonder if some sort of fish kill happened. I decided to try one more spot that was good to me about 2yrs ago. It is a large pool that has a rock you can get on top of and use as a casting platform.  It gives a great view into the water and with good casts you can almost cover the whole pool. I cast my fly near a submerged boulder and watched as it disappeared into the murky water. Then I felt a tap. I set the hook and had the familiar feeling of a sunfish.  While bringing the fish to the surface I noticed it didn't have the orange belly of a sunfish. I knew better then to get my hopes up that it might be a Roanoke. I kept bringing the fish in and finally when I had it in hand I did an inspection.

From Summer2011

I have been chasing these fish for so long that I was in denial that this fish was an actual Roanoke Bass.  I took several pictures and wondered if maybe it was just a green colored Warmouth. Then I noticed the gill plate. There were no lines on it what so ever. The coloring was also too green to be a Warmouth. This had to be a Roanoke. I was elated. As a bonus it was caught with a crayfish type pattern that I tied.  I have a theory about why so many beginners seem to have luck catching these fish. When the fish hit I provided zero action to the fly. It was just dead drifting. That makes sense because most beginners do not twitch and try to practice with different retrieves when they are learning. I will have to experiment more.  Until then I can check off another species on the list.

From Summer2011

Fishing Phobias

This post was inspired by another blog I follow and definitely suggest others reading. It's called Mysteries Internal. The author recently went over some of her fears about wading. It made me analyze my own fears and I figured I could best respond in a post.

I can relate to this. I'm not sure if it is from watching Jaws when I was five but I really hate wading where I can't see the bottom. Just as spooky are things rubbing against my legs. In San Diego I used to go to the beach at night with friends. There was nothing worse than playing in the water a wave hits you and slides sea weed along your legs. The feeling is indescribable and terrifying. Thinking about it while writing this gives me the heebie-jeebies. I become frustrated and wonder why I don't push myself past the fear. I always wonder, maybe this is a fear everyone has and if I can just push past it I will get to the fish where others were too afraid.

My last fishing trip I did just that. There was a mat of gross green underwater weeds. I guess it is called hydrilla.
At least that's what I call it. It grows up from the bottom and lays on the surface like an ugly green shag carpet. Your legs disappear when you walk through it and you are in a prairie of unknown water grass. It might sound like heaven to some but to me it's unnerving. What is in this grass? How deep is it under this grass? Why does this grass smell in some places and not others? Is it from other brave waders who died and are now fertilizer for this very plant? Who knows but it does get to me. The most silly part is most of this fear could be avoided by carrying a wading staff. I carry so many things already that I feel like a fishing version of a Swiss Army knife. I've been trying to downsize my gear for years. It just doesn't seem right to have a stick in one hand and a rod in the other. Even if it is for safety. That's my dumb logic.

When I moved through the grass I was happy that I was trying to face my fears but I couldn't wait to get to the next rock outcropping. There was one point where I was standing on a rock island surrounded by this green muck. I couldn't tell how deep it was on any side. I sort of bent down and tried to edge in with one leg. With every inch my leg went under the surface I kept hoping "please feel the bottom, please feel the bottom." Eventually my foot hit bottom and it was a lot shallower than I expected. But then came the dilemma of taking another step. I reluctantly walked through the grass and tried to not think about what was in it. I just focused on the next rocks I could climb up on. Even though I had walked through maybe 100yds of water without being able to see the bottom and what I was walking through, I was still having a hard time getting up the nerve to walk back through it. Maybe I was lucky and just stepped over a hole that I'd fall in on the way back. I psyched myself up enough to wade back through the grass and my steps would quicken the closer I got to a rock. Once I reached the edge and saw the rocks and stained dirty brown bottom of the stream I was relieved. I'm sure I'll get over my fear some day but it wasn't that day.