Conversations With Carp - Vacation Day Talks

To me the best time to take vacation is autumn.  When autumn comes around the air is cooler and crisper, and the leaves begin to put on a stage performance of beautiful gold, burnt orange, and yellow colors.  Also, trout season rolls around at Blue River and this serves as a perfect chance to see fellow fly fishers that have been absent since the spring. 

So, I try my best to save my vacation time for the fall season, but sometimes things build up on me at the workplace and I make myself burn a vacation day... just like this morning. 

The bill of fare I had in mind for the carp this morning was the black bodied, red tail Curiosity fly along with the chartreuse Creek Critter.  Beginning with the Curiosity, this fly would find the fattest and largest carp I've ever taken from the pasture we call Honey Hole.  This would be a lengthy conversation to say the least.  For some reason I decided to carry a net with me this morning and having this big carp on the line made me thankful the net was at hand.  However, I would learn after four attempts of scooping the fish that this poor quality net was simply too small. 

I would finally wear the fish down where I could get him close to the bank and grab his tail.  I wish I would have taken a better picture that would show the length and girth of this creature.  It was a sow carp and I feel lucky in landing this fish.

It wasn't long until the second fish was on the line and it would turn out to be about a 4lb. catfish. Between the first carp and this catfish the Curiosity had begin to come unraveled.

The red tail Curiosity was retired to the dry patch and this afternoon this great little pattern will be reincarnated in the fly tying room.  His cousin the tan tail Curiosity went on the tippet.

Traveling from Honey Hole pasture to the pasture known as lower Well Springs the second carp of the morning was targeted.  The tan tail cousin came through and the fish came to hand.

From lower Well Springs I travel to the pasture we call the Beach.  Here I see three carp feeding in close proximity of each other.  It seemed best to simply put the fly in the middle of them and see what would happen.  The chartreuse Creek Critter fell dead center of this trio and it was a race to see what carp would get to the fly first.  I honestly couldn't tell which carp was going to arrive first, but set the hook as soon as I saw the tippet twitch. 

There was a problem with where I hooked-up with this carp.  A small tree with lots of branches has fallen across the creek and this carp kept going dead-on for those branches.  Bypassing the drag I played the creature with my line hand.  Finally I hauled the carp to the edge of the sandy beach itself and was sure this carp had been whipped.  But, as I let pressure off the rod to approach the carp, the fish flipped, hook came out, and it was adios.  The carp won this battle.  Kudos to you fine sir. 

Charlie stopped by the mercantile store the other day and we begin to talk about how our fly selection, particularly to size, has evolved over the last several years.  When we first begin to seriously fly fish for carp we were tying patterns on size 6 scud and straight shank hooks.  We were churning out rather large Backstabber style flies, Carpolo Charlies, and San Juan wormballs.  Now, we are using size 12 scud hooks and this smaller patterns seem to catch more carp.  The one thing I've noticed is that the smaller patterns seem to spook less carp from the fly itself.  The only down side to smaller patterns so far has been there have been several occasions where the fly gets a little deeper  into to the mouth of the fish.  Not damaging deep, but if given preference I'd rather the hook go into the lip each time.  

Once large patterns were used, now smaller is better.

Both Charlie and me have been fly fishing for so long we could easily be considered seasoned anglers.  However, when it comes to carp-by-fly, we always recognize our phylogeny.  We will continue to learn and evolve as we go.  Next up is to improve our take ratio by blind-fishing, and then there is carp-by-fly at night. 

I don't know about the snakes though with this fly at night thing.  







Conversations With Carp - One Is Better Than None

On Sundays at the mercantile store we have what we call a "church rush".  After attending church services people come to the store to gather items for lunch or perhaps an afternoon picnic or maybe supper. 

As soon as the church rush was over today I decided to head to the bunkhouse for some much needed rest.  To get to the bunkhouse, however, the carp creek must be crossed and it just so happens all the carp gear was stowed in the schooner. 

High noon on the first day of July is the wrong time for this angler to fish due to the heat.  The temperature today was actually a couple of degrees lower than the previous several days, but the humidity was higher. 

After a short conversation with self though, it was easy to convince the carp-by-fly part of me that twenty or thirty minutes wouldn't hurt a thing... including my aging body. 

With the same fly as used yesterday, a course downstream to a pool of water that neither Charlie or me fish very often was struck.  As to why we don't fish it often begs a question - there are some carp there and they are equally deserving of some rich conversation. 

In a shallow run is a feeding carp.  The black body red stinger tail Curiosity is rolled out to the fish, but the fly lands beyond and in front of the carp.  The option seems to be to drag the fly in front of the fish and once employed the carp eats it right away. 

Fifteen minutes had yet to pass, but I was sweating profusely and decided to call it a day.  When we get down to the level of the creek there is no air at all because the massive amount of trees that line the bank serve as a wind break. This one carp would be the extent of the carp-by-fly life on this given day.  One is better than none though. 

The streamflow of the creek is at least fifty percent lower than what it was just a month ago.  If we fail to receive rain anytime soon I think it will be my decision to stop fishing for these creatures until the rain arrives. 



Conversations With Carp - After Work Talks

Time so precious, time so scarce - there are so many things that compete for our time.  From hacking out a living to spending time with family, or participating in a fund-raiser, community event, and passing on freely our passions in life to others so they too can enjoy what we love.  Our time is often a sought after commodity. 

Sometimes the song we live, leaves little time left to give.

Lately, there has been little time for this angler to get to the water and the creek.  As it is with this disposition I own I tend to be less happy, less fulfilled, and much less rosy when the creek and the fish elude me.

It can be argued that the key to dividing our time is through prioritizing.  Prioritizing is easy for some, difficult for others and finding myself in the latter I often struggle with decisions regarding time.

It's not the amount of time fly fishing at any given time.  I am well past the days of six or eight hour days on the water.  What holds my fancy is a short hour or so each given day.  I use this short portal of peace as a release mechanism where I can scour my soul of the busyness of the day.

This past Wednesday there was deep-seated ache within me - a longing for just a little time on the creek.  A gnawing type of thing it was.  It felt like wanting to be satisfied, but knowing your not, and also knowing the fix was just a decision away. 

After work, I went straight to the creek.  The gear in tow was a fly rod, flies, and a camera.  Absent was waders, wading boots, lanyard, and the broad brim cowboy hat I always wear to shield the sun. 

At the fringe of the creek, I stood in black dress shoes and dress khakis.  I took my white dress shirt off and left it in the schooner.  On the creek this day I looked like anything but a fly fisherman for carp. 

Looking at a twenty-foot wide stretch of water, the milky image of a carp was showing about three-quarters way out.  On the end of the tippet was the fly I call the Curiosity.  The fly sailed toward the carp and upon entering the drink and beginning the descent, the image of the carp moved and soon disappeared.  Less than five seconds later, the leader suddenly moved upstream.  With a wrist snap, a  hook-set come to bear fruit.  An afternoon conversation with carp begin.

If I'd been geared correctly I would have entered the creek to land this fish, but the dress shoes and pants were on.  When the fish wore down, or so I thought, I tried to beach him when he suddenly bolted downstream again throwing me off balance.  Trying to gather my balance I unintentionally lowered the rod tip and somehow the leader wrapped around a tree limb.  The carp was tugging at the tightening line causing a see-saw motion on the leader.  Fortunately I had one of Robin Rhyne's furled leaders on and they are tough.  Stretching the rod arm and rod as far out as I could and lowering the rod tip into the water the wrap was reversed. 

Wasting no time I quickly bull-dogged and beached the carp.

After releasing this fish... I wanted more.  But, the time issue came front and center so I left the creek feeling much better than earlier in the day.  It doesn't take a lot to scratch an itch.

Our friend Charlie has pulled up lame.  A bothersome issue with his foot is preventing him from doing what he loves - stalking and hunting the carp. 

He has resigned himself to staying in one place or area and waiting for the carp to come to him.  This is an example of a patient angler and Charlie has such a virtue. 

Despite of his lack of mobility he's been doing well with the fish, which include carp, catfish, drum, and the pan-fish.