Out Of Desperation

This has been one of the most challenging carp by fly seasons Charlie or I have ever tried to deal with.  Challenging because of conditions, not lack of fish.  A little over a month ago, our little carp creek was in bad shape and deteriorating by the day due to the lack of rain. 

Then the rain began to fall and of course everyone that lives in this area was thankful and joyous.  For the last four weeks it has rained at least once during that week and it's been significant enough to keep the creek a brown blur. 

Sometimes those of us who angle get so desperate in our chase for a species of choice, we simply roll the dice and go for it.  Yesterday I was feeling quite desperate and decided to go to the creek.  Standing on the bank with fly rod and the Aftermath fly, I was staring at a dingy brown creek with no carp in sight.  Like I said, sometimes you just have to go for it.

 

I think the carp have been missing the Aftermath.  

Sharing The Thrill

I came to know Dusty Gilles several years ago through fly fishing at Blue River.  We both love the trout season at Blue, but once that ends we seek out other species.  About a month ago Dusty made a trek to the North Canadian to see if the sand bass had begin to run.  Instead of finding sand bass he encountered carp at a confluence of smaller creek with the Canadian. 

Dusty wrote me afterwards telling how he threw what he had at the carp but they weren't buying it and asked for a little information on fly fishing for these grand ones.  Writing Dusty back I told him how Charlie and I approach the carp, what their nature tends to be, and how to present a fly to this ever-so-smart fish.  Then, I went to the tying bench and churned him some flies and got them in the mail.

Dusty took the flies to the river with him yesterday and sent the results shortly thereafter.  He wrote that the first carp he caught took him into his backing and that was something he'd never experienced before. 

I would suggest that Dusty is the one that got hooked.

 

 

 

 

Carp Campaign Neglect

I have been quite neglectful to this journal and to the carp that I so savor.  There is more than one reason, but primarily my work-life has gone from a somewhat manageable state to an almost impossible one.  My time on the carp creek has been quite limited and coupled with the condition of the creek when time is possible has led to this great neglect and regret on my part.

I have been out somewhat, however, and those trips have been productive.  The Aftermath fly continues to entice carp after carp.  Conditions have made this the toughest carp by fly season this angler has had to deal with.  The wind has been absolutely insane and now the creek is choked with tassels that the wind pushes upstream into blankets.

 

Yesterday the carp were feeding on the tassels on the surface.  Upon seeing the surface feeding I was inclined to tie on a dry pattern, which would have certainly been a Stimulator.  But, the wind was howling and it would have done little good to try and get that dry to a target.  Instead, I took the Aftermath and targeted surface feeding carp by putting the fly directly in front of them as they sipped the surface.  The carp would absolutely dive bomb for the fly and suck it mid-column.  It was a beautiful sight to watch. 

 

My last four or five outings have been dominated by chop on the water.  The last two days the chop has been more like swells on this sea current of this prairie ocean.  It makes for a most difficult day.  The carp still somehow come my way though and I am quite thankful.

 

To get caught up here are some pictures of some of the latest carp and they all came by way of the Aftermath.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 



Dear Carp - The Color Of Fall Carp

Dear Carp,

In coming to you today, the second week in a row, I feel like a rich man.  As I stood at the fringe of your home the cool morning air was refreshing and mindful of the approaching autumn season.  I wonder if you sense the same?

Having lost all my Aftermath gifts, I tied a new one before leaving the place that I live.  With the Aftermath tied on I show it to the first of your kind I encounter.  He is a long fellow and wide in the shoulders - a beastly sort and he likes what he sees.  My hook-set is firm and employed with great conviction.  This beastly fellow wastes no time however in showing me his determination and runs me to the edge of my backing on a downstream path.  Finally I get him turned, but he is not done showing me how the cow eats cabbage.

As he turns to come upstream I realize how clever this beastly one is.  He goes to the far bank and entangles himself in the thick weave of the root system along the eroded bank.  I see him floating on the surface unable to go forward, back, or to either side.  I decide to call it and break him free and as I attempt to do so, I somehow pull him out of the weave.  Our battle continues, but not for long.  My line suddenly ricochets out of the pool and lands near my feet.  Gathering the line I inspect the end of my tippet and sure enough there was the tell-tale sign of a bad or giving tie - a curly-q at the end of the tippet. 

With no more Aftermath gifts I tie on one of Charlie's Creek Critters.  Looking upstream I see a juvenile and cast the Critter about twenty-five feet.  He gobbles it.  

Bringing the young chap in for the branding by my hand I notice the colors your kind are taking on.  In years past I always enjoy the orange hues in your tails and fins that come about this time of year.  Perhaps it's a thing of nature - I'm not sure, but whatever it is seems like a great artist is using you as a canvas. 

 

My friends, I have much to do in preparation for my bucket list trip to North Carolina.  I do hope to return to you soon and certainly would like to see you more often.

 

Until our next meeting, live, love, and prosper. 

 

 

Sincerely,

 

 

Prairie Ocean Fly Fisher 

Dear Carp - In The Chocolate Brown

Dear Carp,

It has been two weeks my friends since I've been able to come to you.  As you already know, my kind has been slammed by violent weather - the kind that takes life.  Our long and consistent prayers for rain has paid off and we have been rewarding handsomely. 

The downside to the wonderful bounty of rain we've received is that it does keep the angler from having much chance, if any, of communicating with your sort. 

 

Yesterday I could bear no more and came to you home in hopes of seeing one of you at least.  Visibility was nil to none however, but I remembered a tactic that Gregg in Idaho uses - he fishes the bubbles. 

 

Fairly close to the fringe of your home I saw bubbles and watched patiently as the bubbles were moving along and this told me that one of your kind was making tracks. 

 

The Aftermath that I so favor now went out in front of the bubbles where I let it set for just a moment.  Upon lifting my rod tip I felt a presence and then the water exploded.  Fishing the bubbles worked on this occasion and a fine young member of your clan came in for the branding.

 

 

Although it felt wonderful being with you today, I figure it will be another week or ten days before your home clears enough for me to return. 

 

Enjoy the bounty of water coming into your home - more may come, more may not come.  You do indeed live day by day. 

 

 

Sincerely,

 

 

Prairie Ocean Fly Fisher 



Dear Carp - More Aftermath

Dear Carp,

I hope this letter finds the lot of you well and thriving.  What a splendid morning it was my friends.  This morning was the first morning in 42 days that I did not have to report to the mercantile store to serve employment.  How grand it felt.

To celebrate I took my coffee under the elm tree by the water garden.  It didn't take long to saucer the coffee and as I did I enjoyed the most delightful spring rhapsody from the birds in the branches above, as the homeless cats that I carry stewardship over swished around my feet in hopes of just a wee bit attention.

Of course... you were on my mind and I knew I would be coming to see you even though the wind was quite strong.  At your home I decided to use the new gift I spoke of yesterday - the Aftermath.  It wasn't long until a young fellow by the order of the Mirror latched on to my gift.  He had a lot of spunk and that seems to be inherent to the Mirror order. 

 



After letting the young fellow go to explore other treasures that lay in wait, a most beautiful sight caught my eye.  In yesterday's letter I made reference to how we can find both pretty and ugly on the creek and the woods, the wild. 

I think the following postcards will further illustrate both pretty and ugly and serves as an example of which I speak.  I am sure you will agree with me that the geese navigating your current this morning are quite a beautiful sight.

 

Now my friends, for the ugly I present to you another postcard as the geese are taking flight and as you already know there is ugly in your sea lane in the form of a blue trash barrel and school desk - both courtesy of the hands of man and the school system. Most certainly not are they sailing vessels... they are simply trash and I have plans to remove their flounder selves before they end up further downstream.

 

 

Perhaps someday you will understand why I prefer to be in the company of you and other wild creatures rather than those of my own kind.  It is my kind who pollute and destroy and I think Utah Phillips may have said it best with these words, "The earth is not dying, it is being killed.  And the people who are killing it have names and addresses."

 

My friends, if your home becomes any more compromised I am thinking about letting you be as far as holding conversations.  As I told you in a previous exchange I will come to you and serve your needs as best I can, but I will not fish for you in hopes of a connection - at least not until things improve. 

If I decide to let you be, I want you to know... I will miss you dearly.

 

 

Sincerely,

 

 

Prairie Ocean Fly Fisher 



Dear Carp - March 4th, 2013

Dear Carp,

Today was a cookie cutter of yesterday, but only nicer since there was much less wind.  I deemed it a perfect afternoon to come a-calling. 

Charlie must have thought the same thing because he has sent me a postcard to share with you.  It's a postcard of one of your brothers that lives in a pasture downstream. 

Charlie sent out an offering in the form and fashion of one said San Juan Worm to this brother and the brother... liked the worm.

 

I chose a neutral color offering today but you couldn't seem to find this color as you come to it several times.  I believe the fly was becoming camouflaged in the thick mat of algae that has taken root at your home.

 

So, I moved downstream a little and tied on an offering with a yellow wing and rust brown body.   There was a herd of your kind about 25 feet out and with a backhanded roll cast I sent my gift to these beeves. 

 

As soon as the fly hit the water, one of your community members nose-dived for the fly.  I lost sight of both fish and fly and then went on yet another gut hook-set based on the time I thought was appropriate.  We had a nice talk, me and this guy did.

 

 

 

This citizen was a rowdy type of fellow, splashing water on the lens of my memory maker.  That's okay however, because water dries doesn't it? 

 

I learn from you each time I come my friends.  On my last several visits I took note of how you notice me shaking line out of the end of the rod when I hold it waist high or higher.  I took note how this scares you so now I shake line out the end of my rod with the rod tip down.  Then, I lift the rod tip ever slow slowly. 

 

Thank you for the lessons you have taught me and will continue to teach. 

 

 

Sincerely,

 

 

Prairie Ocean Fly Fisher



Dear Carp - January 24th, 2013

Dear Carp,

My friends... I feel like I lied to you.  Yesterday I told you it would probably be a couple of days until we meet again due to the weather.  The cold front scheduled to hit this sea lane stalled sixty miles north of here and we ended up with a blue bird afternoon.

I want you to know I did not intentionally mislead you because I was relying on the reports from those that predict the weather.

I had my doubts on having any conversations with a member of your clan today.  My arrival to your home was several hours later than usual and there was only a short time of light left. 

Knowing that the sun would be lower than when we normally meet, I decided to offer you a gift in a different color than you've been seeing here of late.  The color you have fancied so far has been a natural color constructed of deer hair.  Today however, I brought you yellow.

After tying the yellow backed Critter on I suddenly became embarrassed realizing I had tied this creation backwards.  Yes, embarrassed... and the only excuse I can give you is due to my tendency to sometimes have a pilsner brew too many.  It's an innocent I own you must know. 

As I was thinking about tying on another creation, one of your clan - an adolescent fellow, teenager for sure, caught my eye upstream.  He was gingerly traveling downstream.  Being upstream from me I employed a back-handed roll cast and as I watched the Critter slowly fall in the column... he ate it midway. 

That was one of the prettiest sights I've ever seen. 

 

This teenager of your ranks was beautifully colored and indeed a fine citizen.  He learned a good lesson today and will grow in wisdom as time goes by. 

 

Time was short for us today, but as promised I removed more trash from your home.  Not much, but some.  With my declining ability to remember things and with my discipline and organization also being on the skids, I keep forgetting to bring the big trash bags with me.  I'll work on that.

 

 

I may go see the pretty little fish of Blue this weekend, but I promise to return to you soon.  And, I won't bring that ugly fly with me next time.

 

 

Sincerely,

 

 

Prairie Ocean Fly Fisher



Dear Carp - January 23rd, 2013

Dear Carp,

Standing at the threshold of your home today, I realized the advantage you had over me thanks to the phenomenon known as Snell's Window.  When you are in the shallows only a foot or so deep, the window you peer through is quite small and narrow.  However, today you were in deeper water - three feet or more and the window you were looking through, at me, was much larger.

My hope though was the angle of the sun would mask the shadow of my offering and the line it was attached to.  To further increase my chances of meeting one of you, I employed a sidearm roll cast that has a much lower arc. 

I thought you had me for good today - a couple of missed sucks and a quick release.  However, I would come to meet one of your children. 

 

 

I must tell you... he was a feisty little chap and I know the day will come he will make a fine fighter. 

 

I wonder if Charlie has been by to see you?  I do know that he is feeling better and said something about going to see the pretty little fish since he hasn't had much chance of visiting them.  If I were you, I would keep a keen eye out for Charlie. 

 

I am compelled to tell you that I've always watched the animals and their actions in trying to get a sense of what the coming season will do.  Here of late, in watching you, along with noticing the gleeful play of the squirrel in the trees, along with the joy warbling from the throats of the birds, I can tell you we will have an early spring. 

 

An early spring is an exciting thing, but there is still troubling concern.  As I stand along the fringes of where you live, it is hard to ignore the fact your home is continuing to shrink.  The prolonged and exceptional drought continues to plaque us.  Now, the men and women who tell us what to expect in the future are saying that this part of the prairie ocean needs 9 to 12 inches of rain to come out of this drought.  The question is will we receive that much.

 

The beaver may be trying to show us the answer.  At Charlie's Pasture, the animal Charlie calls Little Beaver has constructed a dam that has raised the level of that sea lane by two feet.  Today, just upstream from you, I found the makings of another dam.  Perhaps the beaver senses something and is trying to build reservoirs to ride out the rough times. 

 

Before leaving you today, I rid your home of some more refuse.  There is so much this year it seems overwhelming at times.  A little each time though will make a difference and also gives me an excuse to come see you and your lot. 

 

 

I probably won't see you for a couple of days.  A juggernaut of a cold front is headed our way arriving tonight.  Tomorrow's daytime temperature will be thirty-five degrees colder than today.  So, I will stay home and tie you some more presents in hope you will like the gifts I bear. 

 

 

Sincerely,

 

 

Prairie Ocean Fly Fisher



 

 

A Sunny October Morning Carp

Saturday, I waded the creek on a cloudy day with wind that chopped the water.  This morning I waded a muddy creek on a bright sunlit day with wind that was blew only high up - only rustling the trees and not disturbing the creek. 

The sudden hard and driving rain we were promised showed up in the late afternoon, shortly before evening fell.  It was a blowing rain; the kind that somehow manages to get up under shingles on a house.  It was a significant enough rain to blur Rock Creek rather badly.

The thinking this morning was to concentrate on the creek edges, the fringes of the creek, in hopes of finding a foraging beeve to lasso with a fly. 

The first hour was a total bust.  Movement in the creek could be seen, but it was a "can't make heads or tails" situation.  The first pasture visited was the Upper Shallows, and I thought this would be my best opportunity, but again, it was mainly a crap shoot. 

Leaving the Upper Shallows, I set sail for the pasture known as Lower Well Springs.  Here, at the fringe of the near bank were two carp gently grazing.  Since the color of the creek was well off normal, I chose the Prizefighter Carpolo Charlie.  The Prizefighter is black, blue, and purple and it seemed to make sense these colors would work well in the off water. 

 

The Prizefighter was offered to the lead carp and he seemed to like what he was seeing.  With a simple lift of the rod tip, we began a quite pleasant conversation... at least for me. 

 

 

 

This one carp being branded seem to be enough to fix me - pull me out of the disrepair of everyday life. 

 

From the Lower Well Springs Pasture I set course back to the Upper Shallows to retrieve a school chair from the creek.  Sadly, the school system is still the prime trashing entity of this creek along the quarter-of-a-mile boundary the school shares with Rock Creek.

 

 

 

I took a picture of the chair in the creek and then one of the chair out of the creek.  I added today's pictures to the album of trash in Rock Creek and this afternoon I'll be at the local Radio Shack having them printed. 

 

Back at the bunkhouse, I will draft a letter to the president of the board of education and then mail the letter along with the pictures to him and the rest of the school board.

 

I will ask for just a little help in keeping Rock Creek clean.  It's with high hope the board will find my letter receptive. 





Man's Best Friend Blow Up Carp

The Creek Critter has been the bell cow of carp flies this season.  With the brown-winged, yellow body with orange legs tied on, I hit Charlie's Pasture around mid-morning to see if the carp were frisky.

No more than a minute had passed upon entering the creek when I heard a loud splash behind me.  In the creek had landed a rather good looking and nice marked dog making his way to the near island. 

I stopped where I was hoping this fellow would go downstream, but instead he circled around to the forward tip and fixed his eyes on me.  I didn't dare move in the hope he would again find his way downstream, but as soon as I flinched... here he come. 

With the intensity of a freight train he came barreling up the creek toward me.  Instead of stopping when he got to where I was standing, he ran straight past me only to circle back around and circle again, and again, and again.  I kind of felt like a passenger of a western bound wagon train of years ago. 

Soon he settled down and came to my side where I offered him a pat on the head.  Not knowing his name, I decided to call he Fido Funtimes.  Funtimes went ahead of me of course, which was exactly not what I wanted.

They say every dog has his day and today must have been this dog's day.  He was having the time of his life exploring every inch of the creek.  I made my way to the island that serves as a harbor for the community of carp at Charlie's Pasture.  Guess who also made it there? 

This dog left nothing unturned.  Up and down the creek, back and forth along the bank.  Near side, far side, it didn't matter.  This dog was on an adventure. 

It didn't take long for the dog to do exactly what I didn't want him to do.  Upon getting up on the island I spotted some rather favorable carp.  And... Funtimes spotted them too and wasted no time jumping in the creek to pursue them.  Of course, carp blew up everywhere and what was a fairly clear creek had suddenly become a mud bath.

At this point it would probably have been best just to call it a day of possibility that didn't go right, but since the carp and creek had been blown I decided to do some blind casting.  This is when I would discover how curious or how smart this dog really was.

I knew the carp held across at the far bank.  The dog was by my side with ears perked as I started stripping and shaking line out of the end of the rod to make a roll cast of close to thirty feet.  The line went out and as soon as it straightened out on the now muddy glass, the dog went in. 

This crazy canine was swimming parallel to the fly line and he was dead set on the end.  It didn't take long to realize he was going for the fly, which he couldn't see.  Flipping the line to the right in hopes of getting the fly out of his way, he turned right.  Then I started stripping like crazy and this persistent pooch turned toward the bank and followed.  As I lifted the fly up to the bank, this guy lunged at the dog-gone fly. 

After that it was time to go, but this new furry friend of mine wasn't through frolicking.  Nope, not at all.  It's a dog's life and this dog was trying to live every minute of his to the fullest.

On the way back downstream, I saw a snake - the fourth of the short morning.  With the arrival of autumn and cooler temperatures that have come, the snakes are on the move.  Stopping to take a picture of the snake, ol' Funtimes decides he wants a closer look too.  He tracks right across the top of this snake and somehow pulls it off without getting bit or rousing the snake at all actually.

Making my way back to the prairie schooner I get in as Funtimes tries to climb in also.  I give him a pat on the head and wish him luck as I pull out of the harbor.  He follows at full throttle for about a quarter-of-a-mile and then he sees a family having a picnic so decides to join them. 

Guess I feel kind of bad not inviting him to the bunkhouse, but he looked to be well taken care of and I figure he was just out on an afternoon reprieve from his mundane life at home. 

Regardless of what his situation is, today he was just looking to make a new friend. 

Aren't we all at times? 







Chronicles Of A Struggling Creek - A Bit Better

Wednesday morning we were blessed with a delightful rain that lasted a good hour and little more.  During this brief time the rain was steady, and upon checking the blue bird rain gauge at the prairie home an inch of accumulation revealed itself. 

The question became would this rain be enough to get our carp creek flowing again?  Although, I had my doubts, the only way to be sure was to visit the creek for a look-see. 

Much to my delight, and surprise, the morning rain had produced a flow - not much, but still it was moving water. 

Today, there was a promise of hope for afternoon rain, but as I'm writing this post that hope has fizzled like a dud firecracker on the 4th of July.  Disappointing for sure - so close but still so far.  There is a chance for overnight rain.  Hopefully, those clouds of life-giving moisture will materialize.

Fishing hasn't been much of late.  I haven't been out much, but more than Charlie.  Tuesday afternoon, there was a spatter of raindrops falling so I decided to hit the downstream section of the creek where there is still ample water. 

After an hour on the creek I walked away having lost five carp.  Two were by quick release or poor hook-sets most likely, with the other three being from the carp snapping the flies.  This was quite unusual and something seemed awry.  Upon checking the tippet it seemed quite fine, but I changed it out as a precautionary measure. 

Yesterday was much of the same - two hook-ups with carp and defeated once again.  The perch are crazy right now with perch attacking or impaling themselves with just about every cast.  The same is true for the small bass and catfish.  Of course with the perch, bass, and catfish pursuing the fodder meant for carp, it certainly cuts downs on possible carp captures. 

After work today I stopped by the creek in hopes of a quick fix in the form of a carp.  Those of us who fly fish for carp know what a mercurial lot they can be and today they seemed particularly wishy-washy.  It was refusal, refusal, refusal.  And, the perch, bass, and catfish were there again.

I showed the carp stabbers, carrots, creek critters, the curiosity, and the mysis shrimp, but they just tucked tailed and ran.  Finally, I look in the fly box and find the smallest and most ragged Creek Critter I own.  This poor thing was so scarce it barely had any yellow deer hair left and both legs were missing.  Nonetheless, I toss it out and an over-eager young carp inhaled it.  Actually the youngster inhaled it a little deeper than I like, but fear not - the hook was de-barbed and it backed out with ease.  This pretty little carp is the smallest carp I've caught.  It's good to see young carp like the one today because it means things are on-going.

The most pleasurable part of this afternoon was meeting a young fly-fisher named Brent.  Brent is interested in fly fishing for carp and even though he had his fly rod with him today, time was short and he had to return home 90 miles away.

I invited him back to this creek and the wonderful carp that make it home.  I hope it rains more so Brent can come back to a nourished stream.  





Conversations With Carp - Talks Postponed

Same scenario as last Saturday - at work way before the rooster even thinks about crowing, leaving work and arriving at the creek at the time the rooster is crowing.  Fish long enough to catch one carp, give thanks for the opportunity of the morning, and return to work. 

I say again... one helluva life.

It's all okay though because I came to a decision before ever hitting the creek this morning.  I wanted to catch one more carp and then I will postpone my conversations with these creatures giving them a rest. 

It was quite rewarding that this last fish would be a young and fascinating looking Mirror carp. 

My decision to postpone fly fishing for carp is because of conditions.  The stream flow of this creek is barely at minimal stream flow standards.  The algae and scum is building up by the day and I'm sure the oxygen in the water is being depleted.  All this could prove quite stressful on these beasts.

Rock Creek serves as a pantry of pleasure - a pantry that feeds the hunger of being with the carp.  Charlie and I both own this hunger.  This creek is mother nature's milk of the locale proper.  Will I now starve to death without the carp?  No, at least not physically.  My hunger will continue to grow and gnaw and my high hope is that the hunger will not grow to the point where I own an emaciated soul. 

If the rain will come and find the ground in good quantities, I'll get right back to the conversation.  But, if it doesn't I will let these creatures be for a while.  There is high hope of rain in the coming week. 

If only the rain would come.   



Fly Fishing For Carp - Our Beloved Carp Apparel

There are a number of blogs I read each week, and one of my favorites is Trevor Tanner's Fly Carpin.  Last week, Trevor published a post entitled Ode To Stank - a ballad in honor of his well worn and beloved carp-by-fly cap. 

If we read Trevor's words and look at the picture of his Carpe Carpio cap, it's easily to tell this cap has reached can't-fish-without-it status.  Additionally, I would suggest Trevor's cap is quickly reaching, if not already there, gnarly status.

I now realize that Trevor and I have something in common besides our love to chase carp by way of fur, feather, and fly rod.  We both seem to have a tendency to not easily let go of some of our carp apparel. 

Now I don't know if he has ever been offered money for his cap, but when it comes to the cowboy hat that I always wear when chasing carp there have many several offers of money from people who say they collect cowboy hats. 

Of course, their offers were turned down because there truly are some things in this world that money can't buy. 

Anyhow, since Trevor made his post and it seems we have something in common when it comes to hanging on to sacred carp apparel... I begin to wonder how many more, like us, are out there with their grimy gear.

In order to determine how many more may be hanging on to long-owned, well-used, gritty, grimy, nasty-status carp apparel, I decided to post a picture of my hat. 

Trevor tells us his cap is eight years old and that is certainly a respectable age.  However, my cowboy hat is seventeen years old.  Yes... for seventeen years this low grade felt (X-factor like 1) has somehow survived me.  For almost two decades this hat has held every stitch when gear like waders, boots, and rods have failed to live through my onslaught of fly fishing insanity. 

Not taking anything away from Trevor's fine cap, I have to argue that my hat is just a bit more gnarly this his cap.  Not only is it gnarly it has become completely socially unacceptable.  I know this fact because I have worn it to social functions just to see the response on the faces of the fine people attending said social functions. 

Does it smell as badly as it looks?  Oh my god... this time of year it can make the olfactory curl and rollover dead.  All I can say is thank goodness for the man or woman that invented Frebreeze. 

So with all this said and done now, I hope that others out there - like Trevor and myself, will offer pictures of their cherished and can't-let-go-of carp apparel.  Let us see who is the king of gnarly carp apparel.   

Conversations With Carp - Hot Topic

It is certainly heating up here on the prairie ocean and late in the afternoon around four or five is just too hot to fish.  Being somewhat beyond myself in wanting to hold discussions with the carp I decided to take a lunch hour today because the heat is still tolerable around the noon hour.

At the creek I decide to put Charlie's Biter Critter back in action.  Upstream from my position is a feeding carp and the Biter Critter goes sailing about twenty feet out and landing eight inches in front of the fish.  The carp sucks the fly right away and the conversation begins.

This one carp seem to satisfy my itch and not wanting to be off the clock anymore than I had to, I returned to work figuring this would be a one carp day.

However, around five this afternoon I received a carp hunter's blessing.  The sky darkened and became completely overcast hiding the sun.  The temperature dropped a good five degrees or more.  Within fifteen minutes I was on the creek.

The overcast sky created low-light conditions and most of us that hunt carp do not particularly like low-light situations. But, on the creek everything seemed perfect.  It was remarkable how clearly I could see and within thirty minutes I would bring four more carp to hand using the Biter Critter.

The carp were feeding in a shallow pasture of water we call the Bend.  Gently rolling the Critter out in front of the carp I would watch with a smile on my face as I could see the carp eat the fly.  Fishing the first four carp encountered, each one would swim to the fly and flare the gills.  It was almost too easy.

Wanting to go for carp number six of the day was squashed when the lightning started flashing, so I left the creek a happy, giddy carp hunter. 

Charlie's Biter Critter was today's hot topic of discussion.

Charlies Biter Critter quickly becoming unraveled.



Conversations With Carp - Nature Call

My heart was set on fishing early Saturday morning.  So much set, that I had everything ready Friday night.  On the floor of the den the waders were laid flat.  Next to the waders were the boots, followed by the cowboy hat, and finally the camera.  In the prairie schooner, the fly rod, flies, and lanyard were already stowed. 

The plan was to be dressed by 5:45 a.m., and out the door.  I would arrive at the coffee-getting store about ten minutes prior to six and the morning-shift girls would be good to let me in early... as they usually do.  I would be on the creek by the six o' clock morning hour.

However, as I pulled up hard on the prairie ponies and hitched at the convenience store, a bolt of lighting found ground followed by a tremendous clap of thunder and then the rain came down.  My hope of having conversations with carp was being interrupted by a nature call.

Thinking the rain would stop I would find myself sitting in front of the convenience store some thirty minutes later drinking my second cup of coffee and hot chocolate - a jacking mixture I tell you. 

Finally, I give in to the fact this day would be a wash and belonged to the carp... not the angler. 

These days on Rock Creek, it doesn't take much rain to dirty the creek.  The good news, however, is that it clears almost as quickly as it darkens.  Upon checking later in the day, it was easy to tell the creek would be fish-able on Sunday. 

And... Sunday it would be.

On Sunday, I owed some servitude to the mercantile store first and wouldn't get to the creek until high noon.  Here, where Charlie and I live and fish, I don't particularly like to fish mid-day.  This is June and this is Oklahoma - it's already getting hot with lots of humidity to go with it.  Heat and humidity do a number on the body and therefore I almost have to fish early or late.  But, after being so disappointed yesterday, Sunday would not let me escape without getting on the creek. 

And... Sunday's results would wipe away the wet and stormy disappointment that Saturday brought. 

Using the same pattern that's been used for the last eight or ten carp - the one with the stinger on it - the one I call the Curiosity, I would hold conversations with three carp.

Today's carp came from three different pastures.  The first two came on casting to a carp and going into blind-fishing mode, and the third came on a sight hook-set. 

Today's fishing was terribly muddy, messy, and sloppy - most likely due to yesterday's rain.  I left the creek mud-splattered and wearing carp slick like a badge of honor. 

Loving every moment of it I remembered what my buddy Charlie says.  Fly fishing for carp - "It's not pretty fishing."