I owe Charlie a huge apology. You see... about ten days ago Charlie trotted down to the creek and caught a couple of carp. I was too quick to announce what Charlie had did and stated that he had faltered in his resolve and made this great transgression since it wasn't anywhere near spring - the time the next carp adventure was scheduled to begin.
Today... I sinned also, and I would be such the hypocrite if I fail to first admit my own transgression and say to my friend Charlie, "I'm sorry ol' buddy, my response was a knee-jerk reaction."
Now if I was looking for an excuse or a reason as to why I fell so hard into this depth of sin I committed, then the fault would end up squarely in the lap of Mother Nature. You see, it was seventy degrees today, a temperature more associated with the spring season rather than winter, and quite simply... I was fooled.
Today I found a very thin creek - very thin. The afternoon glare was difficult at best and in some places impossible to get any kind of visual on a carp. I finally could see the outline of a carp and blind casted to him with the orange and olive Carpola Charlie. This first carp picked the fly up and ran with it.
Few other carp were being spotted so I move upstream and find a carp I can sight fish. Carpola Charlie in front of his face and he came to it right away. The first Mirror Carp of the 2011 season.
The weather that is coming our way will put the 2011 campaign back to the wait list for awhile, but tomorrow is predicted to be near seventy degrees once again. What is a fly fishing, sinful, low-down
carper suppose to do?
First carp of the 2011 season.
Second carp of 2011 was a Mirror Carp.
The 2010 carp adventure was known as the Carp Crusades and our adventures were chronicled. Charlie suggested that 2011 should be known as the Carp Chronicles Redux. Let the redux begin.
I was certain that Dean from Wichita Falls was coming to the river this morning - at least that's what his last dispatch said. So... my plan was to get to the river early and lay in ambush for him. Three hours later, and no Dean, told me that evidently his plans had changed.
At 7:30 this morning it was down right cold on the river. The thermometer read twenty-two degrees, but to me it felt much colder.
Of course, when you're fishing in weather as cold as this morning, guides, line, and reels icing up is always a big problem. We just have to keep dipping the rod and guides in the water and keep on keepin' on.
The fishing was okay today - not remarkable or hot and heavy, but simply steady. The color of the day was brown. Usually I go with olive, but at the vise last night I tied a brown bug and decided to give it a test run today. Olive was the first color presented today, but attracted little interest. Brown was so good that it would take seventeen of the nineteen trout met today.
Ended up losing the brown bug to a damn rock and tied on a fluro bug. The fluro bug was non-weighted so added split shot was required to get it down to the fish. The fluro bug took two and it was about that time the wind got up and I called it a day.
It may be my imagination, but the trout this season seem easily stressed. We can land them quickly, get the hook our promptly and upon release the trout seem extremely lethargic. I've even had a good number try and belly-up on me. Why the trout would be more stressed this season is beyond me. I have to wonder if it's because the flow is down and there is maybe less oxygen in the water. Honestly, I don't know. I still say the river is different this year. Perhaps not a lot different, but still something is not right.
This area is already down two inches of rain for the year, and I pray we get some soon - not just for the river... but for the dry parched prairie land. Wildfires are ravaging beasts.
Spent the budgeted amount of pony feed today, so guess it will be close to home for me for the remainders of the week.
When preparing for a fishing trip, the feed bag has to go on the prairie ponies and pony feed continues to go up. Yesterday afternoon, pony feed was $3.04 for a gallon bucket and predicted to go up. The rising cost of petrol may very well have an overall effect on fly fishing in general. With increased costs associated in just "getting there", some of us less affluent anglers may have to curtail our activities.
Being a fly fisher, that is barely keeping his neck above that drowning line and sinking into the depths of the classification of "welfare-class angler", the price of petrol does alter the destiny I know is mine to own. To fly fish is the path I was born to travel and why the oil barons, giants, and market manipulators have chosen to target me and thousands of other similar-fate fly anglers is beyond any common sense reasoning.
The rising cost of petrol doesn't only effect us at the pump. A perfect example is at the grocery store checkout lane. All that wonderful produce that is grown in the San Joaquin Valley doesn't suddenly appear on display at your local grocery store. Transporting food from the field to the packer/shipper to the distribution center to the wholesaler to the retailer adds up rather quickly. The higher petrol... the higher the cost of food.
Most likely, you and several ten-million other people weren't thinking about petrol while smearing the toothpaste on the toothbrush this morning. But... as you, and the other ten-million or so brushed up and down, back and forth, oil royalty owners everywhere were smiling like the Cheshire Cat, because toothpaste is one of the many products that contains petroleum.
I'd almost bet good money, if I had any, that the price of petrol has an immediate correlation with the number of fly fishing trips anglers make during any given year. You can probably graph it out.
Of course there are great and grand plans for the future... to free us of the can't-live-without pacifier known as oil We have become addicted to oil as any poor soul that made the mistake of smoking crack at some point in his or her life. However, the grand future plans to free us of our dependency doesn't solve the immediate problem which is getting to the water without having to eventually file bankruptcy.
The sad part is this. The only way America is going to avoid higher petrol prices... is for all of us to drive less.
For a fly fishing addict... this may be a painful thing to do. Painful indeed, but a selfless thing at the same time... as the price of petrol puts the pinch on piscatorial pursuit.
Come join the sustainable fly fisher as he
recycles and tromps through trash
trying to make something out of nothing,
At work today, I found a discarded cashew can - the kind that has one of those resealable or reusable plastic lids. Looking at this piece of someones trash I immediately saw the great potential in this refuse particularly since I had lost my store bought micro-trash/discarded tippet collection container. So I fetched the can out of the trash bin and headed to the prairie home to begin trying to make something out of nothing.
At the bunkhouse I assembled everything I thought I would need in order to turn this spurned object, that once held someones delight, into a workable solution in protecting the environment and saving rivers everywhere! Sounds kind of grand doesn't it, but the fact is discarded tippet, and mono-filament can stay in the environment for hundreds and hundreds of years. Besides, fish are attractive to these bright shiny morsels of poly-something and once they eat these micro disasters the chemicals start to break down in their system. If this happens again and again, then someday we will start to see problems in our fish population.
Saved from the grave of some landfill somewhere.
The first order of business was to take a box blade and cut an X in the plastic lid. The X serves as a tippet collection portal and after you insert your finger and tippet the tippet is captured upon removing your finger.
See how easily Mr. Happy Finger slides through.
Now, I don't really want to be seen on the river with a cashew can peeking out of my vest pocket, so I decided to gus the can up a little. I just happen to remember that there is some trout themed wall border around the house somewhere. Knowing how orderly Miss Carol is, it didn't take me long to find it. Taking the border trim, I sized it, cut it, and pasted it on the can.
All dressed up and ready to go.
Since I'd lost my store-bought micro-trash collection container out of my vest pocket, I decided to make a fail-safe or safety harness system for this newest recycled environmentally friendly micro-trash collection container - whew, that's a mouthful!
Early today, I found an old bead chain I use to wear around my neck that held Smokey's dog tags - dog tags that are now on my lanyard. This chain would be a perfect safety harness. Punching a hole in each side of the can, the chain was threaded through and secured.
The safety net.
And here we have the recycled environmentally friendly, possibly river saving, micro-trash/discarded tippet collection container. It's resting in the vest pocket firmly attached to the chain attached to the vest.
Next time on The Sustainable Fly Fisher, we will visit the Seen A Better Day Fly Recycling And Rehab Center. It is a place of great hope.
In the mail today, I received an offer from Google to sign up for one of their services. Now, I doubt that I take part in their offer, but I did read the entire text and that's when I discovered something quite delightful.
In the very last paragraph, or sentence if you will, there is this text.
"PS: This card was printed on 100% recycled paper embedded with wildflower seeds. Plant it in a sunny spot with a thin layer of soil, add water, and watch it grow - while you watch your business grow with AdWords."
How cool an idea is that? Sure, they could have left that last bit of pitch off, but overall what a grand idea! No way is this thing going in the trash or shredder. Nope.... I'm planting it! And, I applaud Google's effort in being green, recycling, and their effort in increasing sustainability. Soon as the weather warms up, it's going in the ground, where I will patiently await for the colors that will soothe my eyes, and the nectar that will flow providing a food source for insects and birds, and the seeds that will drop to the ground or scatter to other locations and possibly start over.
What if hundreds of other companies did the same thing? What if all paper grocery bags were embedded with seeds, like squash, corn, cucumbers, eggplant, lettuce, and so on and on. Instead of the paper bag going in the dog-gone dumpster, it could go in the ground and give us crops (maybe) back.
I think the fly fishing industry needs to look at this also. Anything they merchandise that has a paper card with it could be embedded with seeds.
I doubt that Mr. Jinx really hated meeces to pieces as he proclaimed for years. He did like jacking with Pixie and Dixie though, like moving their mouse hole right before their arrival.
Here we are in the middle of trout season and still a good two months away from the prime time of bass fishing on the prairie ocean, and I find myself fixated with a particular daydream.
In this dream I see myself employing a fast or panic strip on a meece pattern across the glass-like surface of a lake, when suddenly a large bulge forms underneath the fly. Then, just as suddenly, there's a huge explosion of water as the bass sky rockets through the surface with my meece pattern dangling in the corner of his jaw. Rod hand goes up, line hand goes down, hook is firmly planted in the corner of the eight... no nine, maybe ten pound largemouth.
I bet bass hate meeces to pieces. In my experience bass seem to be somewhat territorial and it would reason when they see a gray, somewhat furry, long-tailed creature meece-paddling across the top of their watery den...something primordial occurs... that basic instinct that says attack. Besides... a meece would certainly prove to be a welcomed and varied change to the mundane bass menu, plus offer up a healthy portion of protein.
Now, I don't hate meece, but I don't really like tying meece patterns. Stacking, spinning, packing, trimming, shaping oodles and oodles of hair holds no fancy for me and there are many other ways I'd rather spin my time on the vise. However, I have seen some wonderful fly tyers who create beautiful works of art spinning deer hair. So, it would seem best for me to simply be charitable to these artisans and buy their works of arts.
Meece pattern by Chris Adams
I do have some meece patterns given to me from other fly anglers. I don't always fish the flies given to me from my brothers of the angle, but rather I keep them as reminders of the person that gave... and the day it was given.
There is one particular meece pattern I own that has it's own story. There was a day when Scotty opened his Blue River One Stop at six in the morning rather than seven. On a particular Sunday, I arrived at Scotty's about ten minutes before opening and noticed a vehicle at the front door of the store. Before the morning was over I would come to learn the man behind the wheel went by the name of Randy.
It seemed that Randy had successfully closed one of the local drinking establishments about several hours prior. Since helping turn out the lights at the dive he had been patiently waiting for some sign of humanity - which turned out to be me.
I had driven the little brown pony (S-10) on this Sunday morning, and before I could pull back on the reins and come to a complete stop, the fellow I would come to know as Randy was out of his car smiling, and staggering, and waving, and staggering some more. He was still terribly polluted or maybe terribly hung-over. He had somehow miraculously navigated the road from the Milburn Bar And No Grill to the front doorstep of Scotty's, and he was now acting like I was a long lost friend... when in fact we did not know one another.
Now I don't know if Randy was just an exceptional congenial type guy or if it was the fact his blood alcohol content was probably close to 2.6 or something like that, and his condition had his communication process in high gear. But whatever it was... Randy was quite the talker. He quickly learned the reason for my arrival was due to my plans to fly fish, and upon learning this Randy became extremely excited and started staggering to the back of his car, beseeching me to quickly follow.
At the back of his car, Randy struggled to insert the key in the trunk latch, but once he did he revealed an absolute treasure trove of high end fly fishing stuff. To me, it looked like Randy has just finished a shopping spree at an Orvis store somewhere. He grabbed a rather large fly box that held nothing but well tyed hair flies - beautiful creations. He started plucking flies and handing them to me saying, "Here, take this one... no take two, you may loose one. Oh, take this one too, and here's another one you'll probably need." Fly after fly came my way including a nicely done meece pattern pictured below.
I couldn't get a read on why Randy was being so benevolent to me - was he just a kind, giving person, or was it the fact that intoxicated people sometimes tend to be over-generous when they are under the influence? Shortly, however, the real reason would reveal itself. It seemed when Randy approached the little brown pony he noticed the ice chest in the back of my truck - an ice chest I had most assuredly stowed a six-pack of beer for use later in the day. It didn't take long, after showering me with flies, for Randy to inquire whether said ice chest held cold beer? Seeing that he was in need of emergency care and the correct prescription would be hair of the dog, I told Randy that indeed the chest held beer, and he was welcome to tip one, which he wasted no time in doing.
It was about that time Scotty showed up and I went inside to fix a pot of coffee. I not only grabbed a cup for myself, but one for Randy too, who was still outside nursing that beer. Randy wasn't interested in the coffee, but feeling somewhat better now, he announced he would fly fish with me this morning - my lucky day I guess.
Randy lasted a full thirty minutes on the river before coming to me to say he'd decided to go back to the parking lot. He asked if I would mind if he sampled another beer and I told him that would be no problem. I watched him waddle up the road, then reach in the back of the truck and snatch two Coors Lights. That was the last time I seen him.
I keep Randy's meece pattern in a small wooden boat on my fly tying table. Every now and then I'll pick it up and remember the morning I made a two-hour new best friend and his name was Randy.
Now when it comes to meece and men we're in the same boat - which is exactly where we should stay. Meece and men don't take naturally to water. Oh sure, there are those that will argue that we, man, crawled out of the sea some millions of years ago. If that is indeed true then we've certainly lost our ability, along the way, to breath under water. And sure, we've learned how to swim and I've seen meece that can swim rather well, but the fact is if we stay on the water too long we will tire and we will drown! The same is true for meece!
So, in the next several months, I'll gather some of my meece patterns and put them in a particular fly box preparing for the upcoming pre-spawn bass season of late March and April.
Until then, I'll simply have some fun watching Mr. Jinx jack with those meeces Pixie and Dixie.
Each week I sail the sea lanes of the fly fishing blog world and look for some of the many outstanding posts. This week I sight cast to Fishing Jones. Really like what he has to say and it's easy to tell he's a good steward of our water and natural resources.
Is one man's trash truly another man's treasure? I will have to say that indeed it is. Here of late, fortune has come my way in visiting pawn shops, thrift stores, and garage sales. Here are a few pictures of some of the "older" stuff I've come across recently. One of these days I'll share the gest of the Billinghurst fly reel I once held in my hand and didn't know what I had. Oh.... how very sick I became upon learning of the treasure that slipped through my fingers.
A Martin Fly Reel 2 and it works great. Mounted on a Wright and McGill Rod that came with it.
Eagle Claw Feather Light in really good shape.
Shakespeare Model EC Auto Retrieve
Another Shakespeare Auto Retrieve
Berkley Fly Rod
Lots of Eagle Claw products out there.
Martin Fly Reel
Eagle Claw combo fly/spin rod in original packaging and the packaging seal was intact. Probably from the 80's?
A little bamboo rod in much need of a bamboo doctor. However, this rod along with a Martin Fly Reel 2, Berkley Fly Rod, and two rod cases were scarfed for a five dollar bill. Sweet!
